Dysfunctional Me
by RogueMudblood
Summary: Children in England are losing their faith. Unfortunately for the Guardians, so is one of their own. Can the remaining four resolve the crisis before the damage - to both Britain and themselves - is permanent?
1. You Were Right

_Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians. I make no profit from this work of fiction._

This was a challenge issued on tumblr (30daychallengearchive), and it certainly seemed like an excellent opportunity to explore a character. Thus this was born.

For those who like to use Facebook to follow stories:

w-w-w [d-o-t] facebook [d-o-t] c-o-m /pages/RogueMudblood/684906514892205

Questions can be asked there, but I will remove abusive posts. _(Readers in Germany, Austria, and Switzerland will not be able to view the Facebook page. Due to their legal regulations, those countries were excluded from the viewing audience.)_

_Constructive criticism is most welcome – please don't hesitate to tell me what works and what doesn't._

Feel free to vote in my profile poll. It's a question I'm curious about. :)

* * *

It was really clear to him, most days, that he had accepted the job prematurely. Staring down at the boy who had been so scared after Pitch's defeat, it had been so easy to spout platitudes. Over the years, Jamie had grown, and forgotten him as children tend to do when they become teenagers. The one thing he had not realized when his presence was invisible to the world's youth ultimately became his undoing.

"You still out here moping?"

Turning his head slightly to see the giant pooka, the newest guardian could not even muster the smirk his colleagues considered to be his trademark. A moment's silence passed between the two of them before the ice wielder turned away from his companion. Quiet steps which would have been silent if he had not frosted the grass around him announced the rabbit's approach long before he felt the furry arm slung around his shoulders.

"It's hard, the first time."

Jack turned to stare at his fellow guardian. "I suppose." After several moments of meeting his unblinking gaze, Bunnymund gave a simple nod. The younger guardian turned back to the view he had been observing prior to the interruption. Several more minutes passed between them in silence.

"Well, belief doesn't take care of itself, and there's a whole world full of children that need us."

Jack nodded solemnly, using his staff to help rise from the position he had been occupying for several hours. Hearing his bones crack as he stood, the older guardian chuckled. Whipping his head about, Jack scowled. "Amused, are you?"

"Quite. I'm the old one, after all, and my bones don't make noise like that! You seem to be living up to that name of 'old man winter' those Americans dubbed you with." Caught up in the mirth of the moment, Jack allowed himself a smirk. The reaction caused a profound smile to alight Bunnymund's face. "Well come on then, 'old man' – let's see if you can keep up with this young rabbit!"

"Why you –" Jack's words were swallowed by the laughter echoing through the spring-colored countryside. Creating a path of solid ice, he followed his jovial compatriot back to the heart of the warren. Neither of them expected their headlong flight to be halted by North's yetis. Jack's laughter reverberated from the hills as Bunnymund's creative curses of North's parentage filtered back to him through the magical tunnel the yetis had opened to facilitate their journey to the workshop.

* * *

"You know I hate the bloody cold!"

North looked between Jack and Bunnymund, his brow furrowed. "But you spend much time with Jack."

Toothiana covered her mouth to stifle her chuckle as Bunny's fur took on a decidedly red tinge. North still appeared to be quite confused. Jack perched himself on his staff, blithely ignoring his companion's discomfort. The Easter herald was saved from further embarrassment as the workshop elves began chirruping animatedly. Tooth's fairies began buzzing about frantically.

"Chto eto?" North's baritone rang out loudly, causing the kerfluffle to momentarily cease. A golden hook situated itself briefly around the large jolly man's belly, causing him to turn about. With his hands on his hips, he stared as his longtime friend. "What is it, Sandy?"

The dream weaver appeared to be rather frustrated, using his sand to model images rapidly in an attempt to remind their host of the purpose behind his intrusion into the warren.

"Of course! Yes, you are quite right."

"So what's this all about, eh? Or did you just have us nabbed for funsies?" The large rabbit was keen to change the topic of conversation and gladly grasped at the proffered straw.

"You distracted me with your talk of cold." North's brow furrowed again, but cleared quickly as Sandy stamped his foot in aggravation. "Nevermind. Sandy is right. Something has happened."

"Well, it's not Christmas, it's not Easter, and as far as I'm aware the big man hasn't declared the need for another guardian... Unless that's what you've brought us here for." Jack's drawled observation settled in the air in the relative quiet of the room.

Bunny's pallor became quite wan at the thought. "Oh, no. Not again."

"Aw, you wouldn't want another one of me?"

Though Jack's words were jovial, the lagomorph had learned that he said more with his body and intonation. Frowning, he answered with his customary brusqueness. "I don't know if I have the patience." The winter guardian snorted softly. "C'mon, mate, what did you bring us here for?"

"There is a problem in England."

The large globe dominating the room shifted to center on the British Isles. The lights which clearly showed the children of belief caused a shadow to fall over Jack's face. Since he was acutely aware of the absence of particular lights on the globe, he noticed the change before the isles came completely into view.

"They've … stopped believing?" His voice was barely more than a whisper, the downtrodden tone immediately drawing Bunny to his side.

"I do not know what has happened to cause the change. Those isles have long been a haven for belief – they have been rich with tales of magic since there have been children there."

"It's not Pitch?" The hard edge to Bunny's voice escaped none of those gathered.

"Even if he did gather the strength to come back, I seriously doubt that he'd be able to cause this kind of havoc." Tooth's assurances earned a decisive nod from Sandy.

"Man in moon has not said what it is."

"Then I suppose," Jack began as he dismounted from his staff, "we ought to make a little trip to find out." Sandy nodded emphatically as Tooth clapped her hands in delight.

North held out one of his magical globes. "I hoped you would say that." Throwing the globe to the ground, the air warped to form a familiar tunnel, English moors visible on the other side.

Bunny turned to face the ice wielder. "You just had to suggest that, didn't you?" Jack's mischievous grin lightened his visage once more.

"What's the matter, _dear_?" Reaching out, he looped his arm around his shocked friend. "Don't you want to ride with me?"

The rabbit's surprised shout was swallowed by the tunnel as Jack launched the pair through.

"Something is … how you say, 'up' with those two, da?" North appeared genuinely confused as he asked the question. Tooth smiled, shaking her head while Sandy merely patted him gently on the arm, leading him to the tunnel.

"Come on, girls. Let's go make sure those two boys leave something in England for us." The fairies chirped as they flew in her wake, Sandy gently coaxing North through behind them all.

* * *

The cool wind wrapped firmly about his shoulders, making Jack reminisce about the more frivolous pursuits of his past. He allowed a wistful smile to light his lips for a brief moment, ignoring Bunnymund's rather vocal complaints as the others stumbled through the tunnel. Shaking his head, his features resumed the melancholy which had become far too customary for his liking.

"It's cooler than it should be." Jack's voice cut cleanly through Bunny's grumblings.

"Chto? Cold is normal for the north."

"For Siberia, yes." Frowning, the winter guardian knelt down, placing his hand firmly against the earth. "England shouldn't be this cold in June. Not like this." He stood once more, turning to face the group. "I've traveled with the wind for a very long time. Cold like this I would expect in Scotland. Not this far south." Though he was speaking aloud for the benefit of the group, Jack seemed to be talking only to himself. Sandy shrugged at the curious look Tooth shot him, unsure what to make of the unusual behavior. Bunny simply stared at him, not having seen Jack show any amount of interest this deep in quite some time.

After several minutes of silence, North took a step towards the youngest guardian. "Jack, do you have an idea what is causing this?"

"No. Not yet."

The sound of laughter over the next rise diverted their attention. As they looked up to find the source, the fact that the sun was directly overhead registered with Bunny. Frowning, he turned to Jack only to find the ice wielder staring into the eyes of a young girl.

She was taking several deep breaths as she cleared the rise. She had been running, playing a game of tag with the neighbor, completely oblivious to her surroundings. Having grown up on the moorland, her knowledge of the hills was comprehensive, and she rarely had cause for concern. As she cleared the rise, though, she found herself overwhelmed with the beings before her. The white-haired man staring at her captured her attention. She stood rooted to the spot where she had come over the rise, only tumbling forward as the other child barreled into her back.

"Got you!" The girl that had been chasing her giggled gaily, offering a hand to help her rise. "Your turn to chase me!" The girl started to run off, jerking to a stop only as the first grabbed her sleeve.

"Wait!"

"What? You know how the game is played. So catch me if you can!"

"Hang on a minute!" The previous tagger threw her hands up in the air before plopping herself down on the frosted grass.

"Fine. You need to catch your breath, fine. Just don't take too long 'cause this grass is cold!"

Whipping her head about to make certain she had spied the group, the first girl deliberately swallowed before turning back to her playmate. "Turn around for me for a sec."

"Ew! Ya gotta squat, I can go down the hill!"

"No, no! Look at me!"

The second girl turned sharply in her direction, eyes squeezed tightly closed, her face slightly scrunched with the effort of concentrating on remaining oblivious to her friend's physical state. "I'm not about to watch you do that. No."

"Libby, just – oh, open your eyes, blast you! I'm fully covered and not squatting at all!"

Taken aback by the other girl's forcefulness, Libby opened her eyes blinking in startlement. "What then?" She stood and dusted off her now damp breeches, shivering as her hands made the rough denim connect with her bare skin underneath the soaked spots.

Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, the girl turned towards the gathered guardians once more. As she opened them, her gaze swept over the group in consideration. She nodded almost imperceptibly before pointing directly at Bunnymund. "Do you see the rabbit just there?"

"Cor! You cracked?" Throwing her hands up in exasperation, the playmate scowled at her friend. "We're out for a lark. You need a breather, just say."

"No, really, Libby, do you see him? Just there!" Her finger shook slightly from the force she employed in pointing at the blue-tinged pooka.

"Maisie, really." Walking over to her, Libby gently placed a hand on her arm to lower it. "If there's a rabbit in the field, he won't last long before a hunter gets him for food. Come on then, let's go back. I'm too tired to play tag anymore, and mum will have nosh up soon."

Maisie stared between all of them before resignation slowly settled. Nodding to her friend, they turned to leave. She looked over her shoulder every few steps until she had cleared the rise, no longer able to see the group.

The five guardians exchanged concerned glances. Tooth's fairies allowed their wings to droop as they hovered and the feathered guardian permitted herself a rare landing, settling her feet on the frigid green. Jack turned from the others, staring into the direction the girls had gone. A chill wind blew into him from behind, nudging him slightly towards that path. He forced his feet to hold their ground.

He turned his head slightly as Bunnymund approached, the lagomorph's soft steps crunching on the frozen ground. When the older guardian rested his hand on Jack's shoulder, his eyes slipped closed. After several moments, a single tear made its way down his right cheek, its path halted by the fur-covered finger of his companion.

"You were right." His voice was barely more than a whisper, and Bunny was certain that only his large ears had picked it up.

"How's that?"

"Back in sixty-eight, what you said." Jack's eyes fluttered open, his icy cerulean gaze pinning his long-time sparring partner, leaving the pooka slightly winded with its intensity. Cocking his head to one side, the rabbit silently encouraged the younger guardian to explain. "You told me then I didn't know how good I had it. Not having to worry about being seen."

"Oh, Jack, I –"

"And I didn't believe you." Jack's voice cut him off cleanly. "I should have." Taking a step back, the youngest guardian wrapped his arms about himself as though to ward off the cold in which he reveled. "I didn't even really get it when Tooth's feathers were falling out, but that's because I'd always been invisible."

"Jack, we've been through a lot since that spring –"

"But I get it now." Though he was frustrated by his friend's refusal to listen to him, he kept his thoughts to himself, allowing Jack to continue. "You were right. I don't know that I can handle this."

Sandy stepped forward, having quietly made his way towards the pair as North and Tooth watched silently. The gold question mark above his head caused Jack to smile wryly. Taking another step away from the group, the wind seemed to wrap itself about him slightly as a shield. Jack allowed his arms to drop into a more relaxed position by his sides.

"What I said then –"

"Was absolutely right. It made me so angry then, but I see the truth of it now."

"Jack –"

Gripping his staff tightly in his right hand, the ice wielder held out his left to halt whatever platitudes his friend might utter. "You said I was too interested in having fun and didn't know when to let go of something. You said I wouldn't be able to handle it – that I could never stand being believed in because I wouldn't be able to walk away from a child once they _stopped_ believing to help foster the imagination and wonder of another." Letting the wind lift him slightly off the ground, Jack hovered for a moment, the light leaving his eyes as his melancholy gaze captured the verdant green of his furred companion.

Sensing Jack's intent, Bunny stepped forward. His action was a moment too late, the youngest guardian's words floating back to them on the tail of the wind that was carrying him away.

"You were right about me."


	2. I Was Wrong

_Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians. I make no profit from this work of fiction._

**Many thanks** to AnimeHannah and werekit – each favorite and alert is appreciated!

**Special thanks **to snowing-in-the-spring-time – reviews are greatly appreciated, and I'm glad you're enjoying the story!

For those who like to use Facebook to follow stories:

w-w-w [d-o-t] facebook [d-o-t] c-o-m /pages/RogueMudblood/684906514892205

Questions can be asked there, but I will remove abusive posts. _(Readers in Germany, Austria, and Switzerland will not be able to view the Facebook page. Due to their legal regulations, those countries were excluded from the viewing audience.)_

_Constructive criticism is most welcome – please don't hesitate to tell me what works and what doesn't._

* * *

He felt as though he were battling the Nightmares again. The force with which those darkened dream horses had rammed into his mid section was completely comparable in Bunnymund's mind to the pain coursing through his entire body. He did not even realize that tears were soaking into his fur until Toothiana's nimble fingers began brushing them away. Staring into her violet eyes, the rabbit recognized she shared his pain. He turned to face the other two guardians, finding North and Sandy both watching him quietly.

"Right."

Giving Tooth a firm nod, he hopped over to the others. She fluttered behind him, hovering in the air as he stood to his full height.

"Where do we start? The children need us."

North exchanged a brief glance with Sandy before letting the determination for their purpose permeate him fully. "Da. We start with the closest village." He produced one of his magical orbs, his special brand of enchantment allowing the exceptional crystal to seek out the nearest child. The magic quickly found its target, the orb showing a small town within five miles of the moorland on which they stood. Bunny nodded, thumping his foot on the nearly frozen grass. He did not wait for the objection he expected from the guardian of wonder, launching himself into one of the tunnels he so loved.

The familiar comfort of his preferred mode of transport only lasted a mere moment. Exiting the underground, he found himself standing in the middle of a bustling avenue. Adults went about their business, walking through him. He had long become accustomed to the sensation though it never failed to send shivers through him when a child came to the age of no longer believing. When they were staring in his direction, coming seemingly towards him, only to pass through his large frame – those were the moments that nearly broke his heart.

He recognized the immutable fact, though, that for every child who aged, another child would be born. When one child stopped believing, another would start. In most towns, for each adolescent that walked through him, or stared past him without acknowledgment, there was another who could still see him, a younger child who would stop short to keep from bumping into his legs. They would giggle when he produced eggs for them, smile at the feel of his soft fur against their palms when he would shake their hands.

This town, though, was completely without those comforts. None of the children here seemed to be able to see him. None of them hesitated when walking towards him. No single child stumbled over their feet to keep from running into his legs. He simply stood there, taking in the complete lack of belief among the citizens. A hand clamped down on his shoulder. The instinct to draw his boomerang was tempered only by the knowledge that there was very little chance their enemy had found him so quickly.

"It is frightening, da?" North's deep timbre sounded softly next to his ear. The lagomorph simply nodded. Tooth was hovering, spinning about in quick circles.

"They're all … They can't … see us?" Her speech seemed to be halted while her movements were nearly a blur.

A chill wind blew down the thoroughfare, ruffling the fur on Bunnymund's back. Sandy's dust also seemed unsettled. Toothiana slowed her spinning, making a soft landing as her large wings settled against her back.

"What could have happened to cause this?"

The slight breeze became more forceful, causing the guardian of memory to pull her arms about her firmly in an attempt to ward off the icy chill.

"That is what we must find out." Sandy gave a firm nod at Bunny's declaration, the group standing in the street with nary a clue as to how to proceed.

* * *

He had let the wind carry him until he had stopped feeling quite so broken. Sorrow still filled his core, and he had no idea whether he would be able to ever feel whole again. There was little chance of it, he was certain. He had come to that conclusion when he realized that Jamie could no longer see him. It had been a hard thing to accept, a very strong blow to his fun-loving nature. He had tried to move past it, tried to move on, to find joy in the other children. It was simply different. When he had been invisible, none of them had seen him. It had been simple to flit between them, to cause mischief and show them a good time, moving on when it was over. He had never had a problem with it _before_.

Once they could see him, everything changed.

The wind settled its fragile cargo on a rooftop. Jack lay still for several moments, listening to the sounds in the street below him. He stood suddenly. Stepping to the edge of the rooftop, he gazed down into the bustling lane. Not many children were about, and he could not help but note the sun setting far before its normal time. He narrowed his eyes at the horizon, certain that something was very much wrong with this place.

Forming one of his customary ice bridges, he gripped his staff and lowered himself to the street. The spot where he had landed was colder – regardless of the ice wielder's invisibility, people had always been able to feel his presence. The adults going about their business certainly noticed the change in the air temperature. They began avoiding the patch of walkway on which he stood. Observing this, Jack decided to test his hypothesis.

A string of ice wove itself directly in one woman's path. She seemed to have been looking at her feet, but changed course immediately when the temperature in front of her dropped. Tilting his head to one side, he considered briefly before forming a sheet of ice in front of a young man. Stopping, the man blinked, looking about in confusion before simply altering his path. Several more small changes to the atmosphere forced others walking about to step around certain sections of sidewalk.

He began moving among them, watching as they shivered and tried to avoid him.

"Curious." His voice sounded too loud to his own ears in the relative quiet of the street. Continuing to walk along with a woman bundled up in a very large coat, he did not realize his path was taking him into her home until he was already under her roof and smelling the meal that had already been started for the evening.

"Blimey! Did you 'ave to bring the cold in with you?" The voice floated in from the kitchen, and the woman unwrapping her scarf from her face and throat scowled at the sound of it.

"'S not like we're any more immune to it than anyone else," she muttered, hanging her coat.

"Wha's tha'?"

"Nothing!" Footsteps sounded loudly from the back of the house, announcing the entrance of two small children. The older of the two approached the woman, wrapping his arms about her firmly. The younger stood back, shaking slightly.

"Hey there, Conall. Come give your mum a squinch?" The boy shook his head emphatically. "Are you too hungry to?"

"N-no. It's just you brought in –"

"The cold? So your gramma tells me." Conall shook his head. "Not the cold. What then?"

The boy shook slightly as he stared into Jack's eyes. His voice was no more than a whisper, his breath visible as he spoke. "The Ice King."

It felt as though he had been physically struck. The child could see him, just as the one on the hill could. The girl on the hill had not shown fear, and she had been able to see all of them. It was far more likely she saw them as friends – or potential ones. This boy, though … He was clearly afraid. His shaking gave voice to his terror where his lungs were silent. He saw Jack as a threat.

Confused, the ice wielder left the house without a backward glance.

* * *

Sandy relied on his dreamsand to speak for him. It had never failed him, and his imagination in wielding it was unlimited, fueled directly by the imaginations of the children to whom he granted dreams. His direct connection to the children allowed him greater insight. Unfortunately, he was limited by what they knew, and though they all realized something was wrong, it seemed that the problem centered around the dearth of hope. Getting Bunny's attention, he used his sand to form a scene of children hunting Easter eggs. The rabbit looked at him quizzically, showing clearly that he had not fully understood. He fashioned a sand model of the isles, then placed the hunt on top.

"Are you asking if everything went as normal this year?" Sandy nodded vigorously. "There was nothing unusual." His brow furrowed slightly as he stared at the dream weaver. "Come to think of it, it was warmer then than it is now. And that's very odd." The sandman's eyes lit up, a smile spreading over his face. "What?"

"Sandy?" North's voice seemed somewhat rougher than customary.

"I think he's on to something." The lagomorph placed a gentle hand on Tooth's shoulder, causing her to stir. Her startled shriek made him chuckle softly. "Fall asleep, did you?"

"Yes, I did. I'm afraid that my purview is memories. I don't think they'll do us much good in figuring this out."

Sandy wagged his finger at her, his sand forming an image of fairies picking up teeth. Her confusion was plain on her features, but Bunny's eyes widened as he grasped what the oldest among them might be about.

"They just might. Can your fairies tell which teeth they've collected in which countries from a certain time?"

"They can't, but _I_ can. Why?"

"We need to find out what's happened here since Easter. Sandy reminded me – things were normal here this spring. These kids, they _believed_. They could see me – some of them even chased me about as I was hiding the eggs. Something has happened since then."

"Of course! We'll have to get to the tooth palace, and there might be a _lot_ of teeth to go through..."

"I'd be more concerned if there were only a few."

Sandy was using his dreamsand to form an image of thousands of teeth, piling up higher and higher. A large question mark over the pile had North scratching his chin in thought.

"Yes, Sandy has a point. How will we see all of those memories? It will take Toothiana too long."

Hummingbird wings buzzing furiously, the fairy hovered for several minutes before beginning to flit about. "Oh! Oh! I've got it! I've absolutely got it!" Her words came out in a rush, creating nearly as much of a breeze as her wings.

"Slow down!" She halted suddenly, turning to face the large hare she had long called friend.

"Oh, I'm sorry. It's just I figured it out – how we can do it, and it's exciting!"

"Well, tell us then!"

She shook her head, reaching her hand out and grabbing him firmly about the wrist. "No, no. I'll _show_ you!" Bunny's yells of protest echoed in the cold air as Tooth carried him away. Sandy covered his mouth as though stifling laughter.

"Da, he is fun to pester about travel." North tossed a magic orb to the ground, the ice palace immediately visible through the tunnel that formed. "Shall we, tovarisch?" Giving a half bow, the large man motioned for the dream weaver to proceed him. Sandy bowed back, causing his companion to laugh heartily as they entered the tunnel, leaving the English countryside behind them.

* * *

Dark had long since come over the house whose roof Jack was borrowing for the moment. Few people still milled about the streets, but the few who did found themselves subject to his whimsy. Periodically, he would form ice patches in the street or along the walkways. At times he would have them join together, making a black patch along the pavement. He had been sitting in that spot, manipulating the cold for quite a while before he realized he was being observed.

Descending from the housetop, he walked down the main avenue until he came to a rather large side alley. He ducked out of the way, quickly hiding in the shadow of a doorway. A cloaked figure passed by the end of the alley, and he dashed out to confront them. His presence loomed over the short figure, the shadow he cast scaring his quarry into running. The young boy whose silhouette the guardian could see once he had started running made his way through the main road at high speed, quickly forgetting the treacherous ice lying in the roadway. Seeing it in front of the child, he waved his hand to draw the cold back into him.

The boy's feet stumbled on the freshly revealed pavement, and he stopped, noting the lack of damp slush flooding into his shoes. Standing still, he stared down at his feet, blinking rapidly. He pinched his arm, hoping to wake himself from the slumber he assumed he had fallen into.

Taking advantage of his confusion, Jack moved around to the front of the young boy. He looked up at the guardian then, his hood falling back. The ice wielder found himself staring into sparkling sapphire eyes shining with both wonder and fear.

"Conall, isn't it?" He offered the boy his hand. "You're quite awake, I assure you." The child simply stared at him, glancing at his hand but refusing to take it. He lowered his arm after a time, the boy kneeling to feel the dry road. Looking up at him, the boy tilted his head to the side, brow furrowed in clear consideration. Coming to a decision, he nodded and stood.

"Yes."

Jack's face showed his confusion clearly. "Yes?"

"Yes, it's Conall."

Jack smiled broadly, offering his hand once more. Taking his hand, shivering slightly at the chill, the boy gave it a firm shake. "Jack."

Conall smiled at him, turning to walk back the way he had come. "I have to get home now, Jack, but I'll tell you something."

"What is that?" Their eyes met, and he seemed to have a perfectly clear understanding of everything, an innocent belief that the guardian found himself envying.

"I was wrong about you."


	3. Cancelled Pain

_Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians. I make no profit from this work of fiction._

**Many thanks** to JadeRoseStar – each favorite and alert is appreciated!

**Special thanks **to snowing-in-the-spring-time – reviews are greatly appreciated, and I'm glad you're still enjoying the story!

For those who like to use Facebook to follow stories:

w-w-w [d-o-t] facebook [d-o-t] c-o-m /pages/RogueMudblood/684906514892205

Questions can be asked there, but I will remove abusive posts. _(Readers in Germany, Austria, and Switzerland will not be able to view the Facebook page. Due to their legal regulations, those countries were excluded from the viewing audience.)_

_Constructive criticism is most welcome – please don't hesitate to tell me what works and what doesn't._

* * *

For several hours after the young boy had left him standing in the street, Jack pondered his meaning. What had he meant to say when he said he was wrong about him, the ice wielder wondered. If the boy thought he did not love playing with ice, then he certainly _was_ wrong – but the way he had made the statement made it seem like more than that. Regardless, the white-haired spirit knew one thing with absolute certainty. He could not afford to care too much about the child.

It was inevitable, and Jack was slowly coming to accept that fact. Even thinking about the eventual death of the young boy's belief in him caused him to feel a great melancholy. As he wandered about the streets of the small town, he let his staff trail behind him, ice flowing from its tip where it connected with the pavement. The cool air spread the frigid temperature to the yards adjoining the street. Not concerned with the lack of warmth himself, he spared little thought for the vegetation frosting over in his wake.

A sound he had long thought forgotten echoed through the streets. He rose into the air, following the noise back to its source to find Conall's older brother carrying freshly chopped wood back into their small home while his mother wiped sweat from her forehead in a brief moment of respite. Her brow cleared, the woman resumed swinging the large axe at the long log lying over the leveled stump resting in her yard. Hovering closer, he noticed the woman shivering but took no note of the frost spreading over the surface of the stump until her axe neared it.

The blade connected with the frost, slipping from the wood towards the woman's leg. Without a single thought to consequence, Jack froze the axe in the air, keeping it from completing the path on which its momentum would have taken it. Her shriek roused the rest of her household. Jack glanced to the windows facing the back of the house to find Conall staring out at him, his face an amalgam of anger and disappointment. The ice wielder hung his head thinking he had somehow managed to kill the belief of this small child and called the wind to carry him away once more.

* * *

Bunnymund had continued complaining for several hours following Toothiana's landing at the palace. His irate grumblings had tapered off into muttered utterances of "Rabbits are meant to be on the _ground_!" and "If I'd been meant to fly, I'd've been given wings instead of _fur_!" Sandy had been rolling his eyes at the fussing, and Tooth had simply ignored him. As the hours wound on, however, North's temper frayed.

"Dostatochno!" The rabbit stopped in the middle of his latest tirade. "I know you are upset, tovarisch, but there is no more need to scream about it."

Completely deflated, the lagomorph dropped into a crouch sullenly, allowing his weight to rest on his hind legs. The fluttering of Tooth's wings, a steady sound since she had literally dropped the large hare onto the palace floor when they arrived, stopped suddenly. She peeked out from behind the large apparatus she had been constructing.

"Did something happen to Bunny? It got quiet." The guardian in question gave a wry smile as North indulged a hearty laugh at his expense. Tooth shrugged, going back to her work. "And – done!"

Sandy formed a glittering golden question mark in the air in front of the contraption.

Calling to her fairies, her hummingbird wings cut through the dream sand seemingly without notice. A fleet of her miniature versions came soaring into the room carrying tubes of teeth. She went through them swiftly, picking out the ones the group would need to view. Each tooth that she touched lit up, and each tube containing one was slipped into a slot. As the tube slid into place, an image became visible in front of them. Sandy's jaw dropped as he watched the dream sand the memory guardian had asked for begin to display the experiences of the children.

Bunny's ears perked up. "Say now, sheila, that's some trick!"

North's eyes were large and round, trying to take in the full wonder of what he was seeing. "How delightful! Sandy, did you know your dream sand could...?" The dream guardian was shaking his head slowly, the images on the screen changing as Toothiana continued to choose teeth with memories they needed to view.

Their amazement continued to grow as the images shifted around, taking the shape of a map of England. Though the images continued to diminish in size, the memories still played clearly. Several areas of the map became thick with overlap, scenes of Easter egg hunts playing alongside May Day celebrations. Ceremonies for V-E Day were exhibited beside festivals for Saint George. Within an hour of beginning, Tooth had finished. The map displayed in front of the guardians took their breath away, save the fairy who was bustling about as she had not taken the time to view the results of her efforts.

"All the teeth in then? Good." She spun around, finally taking a moment to see the great feat she had accomplished. Her gasp echoed through the tower, fairies coming from the darkest crevices to make certain that their mistress was uninjured. "How... Sandy, did you know?" Once again, the dream weaver shook his head, taking advantage of the opportunity to point to an area of the map that had gotten his attention. "Yes, that _is_ suspicious. What could have caused that?"

Bunny and North both leaned in towards the spot displaying the least memories. Shortly after Easter, the children in central England had stopped leaving their teeth to be collected. The fairy's brow furrowed in puzzlement as she studied the sparsely covered section.

Using his dream sand to form a tooth, Sandy caused the tooth to dissolve, forming a question mark directly afterward.

"You're right, my friend. The teeth can't have simply vanished."

"What could keep the children from leaving their teeth under their pillows so abruptly? Disbelief usually spreads through an area over time, not all at once like this." Toothiana tapped her chin thoughtfully, her wings creating a strong breeze as she flapped them furiously.

"It gives us a place to start." Bunnymund's Australian drawl summed up their situation neatly. North turned to him with a mischievous grin as he rolled one of his magical orbs between his palms. "Oh, no, mate. Not again!" A lasso of dream sand caught his foot just as he had prepared to thump the floor, keeping him from calling a ground tunnel as his transport. He whimpered lightly as the tell-tale whoosh of air announced the opening of North's tunnel. Shaking his foot, he frowned at the most physically diminutive of the guardians. "I don't need a leash, mate." With a chagrined shrug, Sandy let the lasso dissolve, freeing the rabbit. The hare stood tall as he strode into the tunnel, shuddering at the change in temperature before he emerged on the opposite end.

"This is the outermost edge of the voided area," Tooth announced.

"We work our way in, then?"

Sandy gave a thumbs up, forming a car from his dream sand and motioning for the others to join him. The lagomorph graced him with a skeptical look, tenderly testing the stability of the vehicle with his feet before settling himself into the back seat. Swinging himself into the passenger seat beside the dream guardian, North gave his old friend a conspiratorial wink. Sandy was quick to smile in acknowledgment, pushing his foot downward and leaning back into the seat.

Bunnymund laughed. "Right-o. Like this is a real – ah!" His sentence went unfinished as the dream car vaulted forward, driving the group inland quickly. Toothiana chuckled, flying along in their wake.

* * *

The winter guardian had ridden along with the breeze over a great distance, feeling the melancholy of his mood settle into his bones. While he had been floating along, he had not noticed the gradual changes in the surrounding landscape. As the wind set him down, though, he could no longer blithely ignore the devastation around him.

Despite the advanced stage of the year, the land appeared completely barren. No crops were growing, the trees sprouted no leaves, and no flowers bloomed. Listening carefully, Jack realized he could not hear any birds chirping. The twilight which had come too quickly the night before seemed to hang as a shroud over the place the wind had deposited him. He looked about, entirely uncertain of what could be responsible for such decay.

Gripping his staff tightly, Jack began walking slowly though the village. The wind blew quickly, its icy quality causing even the guardian to shiver as it passed by. Looking down to his feet, he noticed the dusting of snow that the gust caused to swirl about his ankles. For the first time since arriving in England, he took full stock of the area around him. The street beneath his feet was a shiny black, often associated with freshly poured asphalt. Kneeling down to touch the surface, he discovered the pavement was in fact a solid sheet of ice.

For three centuries he had been finely attuned to the winter weather. It was a certainty that Jack had always been able to count on, regardless of what other matters he might find himself considering. He was always able to flit to any part of the world and revel in snow and ice, creating mischief and showing all of the children a good time – even when they could not see him. His antics might have been a source of aggravation among the other guardians at times, but there were very few places on the planet which caused any type of issue with his internal thermometer.

Looking up to the sky to try to track the path of the sun, he was surprised to find it next to the horizon ready to set for the day. Certain that the sun had only risen a few hours earlier, Jack did not attempt to conceal his confusion.

"Not as though anyone's going to notice, anyway," he muttered softly.

"Notice what, dearie?"

Jack spun quickly, certainly surprised to have received a response to his musing. A haggard looking woman with stringy white hair was standing directly in front of him. Her black robes blended into the darkness, lending a very ethereal quality to her blue-tinged skin. The tarnished teeth smiling at him through the blackness of the night nearly made the ice wielder cringe. He managed to suppress the impulse as he brandished his staff towards the strange woman.

"Who're you?" His staff glowed blue with the flow of his power. "How can you see me? No adults can see me."

Her laughter sounded eerily hollow. It could not be classified as a cackle, but it clearly lacked the warmth he expected from such a sound. Her mirthless chuckle sent shivers of despair reverberating along his spine.

"You assume a great deal, boy."

"Boy?"

"At my age, yes, you are nothing more than a boy." Jack's eyes narrowed at the declaration. "Oh, don't take offense. When you make it to the millennium mark, you'll have a reason to glare at me askance like that." The young guardian was not appeased and made no attempt to hide the fact. She allowed her smile to broaden at his obvious disdain for her treatment of him, revealing her elongated canines.

Leaping backwards, the white-haired guardian unleashed a blast of ice in her direction. She did cackle at that action.

"Oh, such a delightfully impertinent boy!" Taken aback by her reaction, Jack ceased his attack, unsure how to gauge her response. "Tell me, child." She stepped forward as she spoke, leaving the shadows and allowing the moon to illuminate her face. "How do you greet your friends? I only ask because that is certainly an inhospitable way to treat a stranger." Her long fingernails glinted in the celestial light, reaching for the cloth keeping her face partially concealed.

Jack's eyes widened as her hood fell back. His horror was etched clearly on his face as he took in her visage, one eye no more than a hollow hole. His composure completely abandoned him, the wind lifting him from the ground and away from her at a mere gesture.

"Oh, come now. A disfigured old hag frightens you so? You're not a wee human. Surely you aren't so superstitious as to shy away from a woman merely because she happens to be crippled?"

Though he was still suspicious of her, Jack lowered himself to the ground. He maintained his distance, allowing her to determine the extent of his distrust.

"Well, it's a step in the right direction." She raised her hood once more. "Does that make you more comfortable?"

The guardian shrugged, not entirely certain how much he wished to reveal to her as he had no idea as to her identity. "How is it that you can see me?"

"I'm a spirit, much like you."

Jack considered carefully how he should proceed. He was curious as to her abilities, and given that she was able to withstand an arctic blast from his staff, one thing the young guardian was certain of was that he had no desire to test her strength. He had learned his lesson with revealing the full extent of his powers after Sandy's apparent demise in his second encounter with Pitch.

"What exactly do you mean?"

She shrugged, relaxing her stance. "The children lose their faith in me, just as easily as they do you."

"But they can see you now?"

Nodding, she let a smile stretch over her face again. "Oh, yes. The winter time is when I have the greatest power, especially at night."

Jack let his confusion show clearly. "But it's June. It's not winter season for England."

"Yet here it is, with snow and ice lining the ground, and the sun setting at – as you say – an unseasonably early hour."

The ice wielder feared his brow might become permanently furrowed at the rate of this woman's cryptic statements. "Are you saying you brought on this long winter?"

"That would be a lovely thing, wouldn't it?" Stepping onto the sheet of ice that was serving the town as a street, she let the moon illuminate her smile once again. "After all, it would certainly keep me in their thoughts, at the forefront of their minds."

"Wouldn't it be exhausting after a time?" Jack hardly realized he had spoken aloud until she chuckled and returned her gaze to him.

"Ah, but it is worth it, boy. Any amount of effort is worth it." She turned from him, stretching her arms from her body as she whirled in the snowy dust kicked up by the gentle wind flitting about her. "This, my dear boy, this glorious cold, this glorious night. This cancels out the hurt."


	4. Need to Want

_Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians. I make no profit from this work of fiction._

**Many thanks** to Chibi-Baka-Kitsune – each favorite and alert is appreciated!

For those who like to use Facebook to follow stories:

w-w-w [d-o-t] facebook [d-o-t] c-o-m /pages/RogueMudblood/684906514892205

Questions can be asked there, but I will remove abusive posts. _(Readers in Germany, Austria, and Switzerland will not be able to view the Facebook page. Due to their legal regulations, those countries were excluded from the viewing audience.)_

_Constructive criticism is most welcome – please don't hesitate to tell me what works and what doesn't._

* * *

Sandy's car sped along through the countryside as the group traveled further inland. Tooth flew beside the car at intervals, flitting off periodically in order to collect teeth. The mini fairies checked in periodically, the memory guardian giving them instructions at a speed the others could not comprehend. Her voice took on a higher pitch the more quickly she spoke. Despite the octave, the melodious sound floated over the group as they journeyed.

Once night had fallen, her voice – and those of her fairies – became the only sound in the air. It took several moments past sunset for the lack of noise to register with Bunnymund's conscious mind. When he realized it, he put a hand on North's shoulder to get the large man's attention.

"Stop the car, Sandy." Forming a question mark from his dream sand, the glittering guardian complied. "Spasibo, tovarisch. What is the problem?" He and Sandy both turned to face the lagomorph who was standing to his full high on the back seat, ears pivoting about as he searched out any other noise in the darkness.

"What don't you hear?"

Frowning, Sandy used his sand to form the shapes of everything he could not hear, his arms crossed as the images changed rather rapidly. The pooka scowled.

"Nyet, he is right. There is no chirping of insects, no sound of the night time birds."

Hopping from the back seat, Bunnymund landed on the ground. He had expected to encounter the soft vegetation that the rich soil of middle England should have produced prior to the summer season. Instead, his paws found hard, frozen earth. Wholly unaccustomed to finding such devastation in a land that should be a sprawling green countryside, the hare's concern for the gravity of the situation grew exponentially.

Where Pitch had used his influence to confound the guardians and keep them from their appointed tasks long enough to cause a worldwide effect on the belief of children, whatever phenomenon was responsible for this level of destruction scared the ancient rabbit. While affecting a child's belief – causing them to lose faith and stop imagining – could never be forgiven, the precursor to this situation among England's children appeared to have more far-reaching capability. Bunny shuddered at the thought of this phenomenon repeating on a global level. The thought terrified him more than he was willing to admit to his fellow guardians. Turning back to face the car, he schooled his features carefully to keep from revealing the extent of his own fear.

"There's no grass."

North's eyebrows rose and his eyes widened. "What?"

Bunnymund shook his head. "None. That's why there are no insects." Disconcerted by the feeling of the dormant earth beneath his feet, the large lagomorph hopped back into the back seat of the dream sand car. "It doesn't feel like the land is dead though."

"Nyet?"

"No. Just... asleep, for some reason."

North stroked his chin thoughtfully, silence once more covering their journey as Sandy resumed driving.

* * *

Jack had not slept a single night in more than three hundred years. Time had passed over those many decades comprising his time as a spirit both quickly and slowly. One thing had remained constant for him regardless – time _had_ passed. Despite his own state of inner turmoil, he knew that with England frozen in winter as it appeared to be, many aspects of the world he knew would wither away.

Mortals concerned themselves with such things as economics and business, neither of which meant much to him. He did, though, concern himself with the lack of crops. Without crops there would be no food, and children would starve. If children died from hunger, they would never have the ability to believe, much less lose that belief.

The ice wielder had made several attempts to explain his thoughts to his new companion. Occasionally, she had chuckled. Mostly, she had ignored him. She might not be responsible for the change in the weather that had caused such devastation, but it was obvious to Jack that she knew far more than she was willing to tell him.

She had carried about her business as though his presence affected nothing, save for keeping her face covered. That, he was certain, was solely for his benefit. She seemed to travel with the wind, in much the same way as he journeyed from place to place himself. So the white-haired guardian simply followed along her path. Had he been watching the ground as they passed over it, he would have noted that the soil which had appeared to be ready for seedlings in the moments before their arrival quickly took on qualities of barren winter land.

The hours passed in silence as they journeyed. Jack could feel the that the sun would crest the horizon within the next hour. Despite his misgivings about the fleeting state of a child's belief, he found himself looking forward to the sunrise. The kids might not be able to see him, but they could at least revel in the effects of the happy chaos he created with his ice. Since his thoughts had ventured away from his companion, he jumped when she finally spoke.

"You should leave now."

She turned suddenly, her hood falling back and her face coming into full view. Not having been given the opportunity to accustom himself to her features, Jack had to suppress his shout of shock. His shallow breaths seemed to amuse her, though. Her grin widened, her elongated canines once again shining in the light.

"W-Why?"

The ice wielder had not meant to stutter. His companion cackled in response.

"Because you do not sleep, but during the day, I do not wander."

Looking about him for the first time since he had arrived with her, he noticed the cave a short distance away. "Oh. Okay." Jack inwardly rolled his eyes, realizing he sounded very much like a small child.

"I will find you again tonight." She turned from him and began shuffling off in the direction of the cave. Just as he had been about to alight the wind once more, she turned back to him. "Jack Frost."

With but a thought, his staff glowed blue once more as he infused it with his power. "I never told you my name."

She smiled at him. He had not detected malice in her during the hours of their journey. The set of her mouth at that moment, however, sent shivers racing up his spine. "I haven't told you mine either. Maybe we'll get to that tonight."

Her laughter carried back to him on the wind as she turned from him once more. Jack watched her leave with narrowed eyes, only turning away once he could no longer see her.

* * *

The cave was dark, as would be expected. A single shaft of light entered through a pinhole in the roof, illuminating a spot on one side of the cavern which she took pains to avoid. Despite the dim state of her home, she knew very well when a visitor had wandered into her abode.

"You're playing a dangerous game."

The silky voice came to her from the shadows, the soft lilt a balm to her tired ears. "Perhaps."

A scoff answered her. "Do you have any idea who he is?"

"Yes." She could feel the impatience of the spirit addressing her. His growing ire became all too obvious as he stepped from the depths of the shadows in which he habitually hid himself.

"Do you really?" His drawl echoed slightly in her cave. "Because I somehow think that if you really knew who he was, you wouldn't be quite so willing to engage in such an intrigue." Her chuckle bounced off the walls of the cave in answer to him. "I suppose I could be wrong."

She moved slowly through the cavern, ignoring his presence until he stepped directly in her path. His arms folded across his narrow chest, he stared into her one eye intently.

"You don't scare me. You've no advantage over me." She turned from him, making it clear she was dismissing him entirely. His eyes narrowed.

"It's not wise to turn your back on me, old woman."

The words caused her to stop and return her attention to him. She pulled herself up to her full height, rivaling his own as she addressed him. "_You_ should take great care to remember which of us is the elder. I've no reason to fear you, Pitch. Never forget, long after the man in the moon ended the madness you called fun for so many years, I _still_ commanded the fear that I own to this day."

Pitch took a step backwards as she advance on him, her finger extended. His eyes widened as she planted her elongated yellow talon to his chest. "Unlike you, I intend to enjoy every minute of my reign. I know better than to wantonly provoke the very creatures who could defeat me. That was your mistake, you know." He glared at her, causing her to cackle loudly.

"Once he realizes who you are, he will do whatever he can to defeat you." She merely smirked in response. "You have no concern for the guardians, then?"

"What need have I to be concerned?" She turned her back on him once more, settling herself into the shadows against the cold cavern wall. "I fully intend to have them orchestrate my eternal reign."

* * *

Had he been mortal, North would have assumed that his leporine friend was asleep. Since they were spirits, the guardian of wonder knew that the large pooka was merely attempting to avoid the reality of his situation. If nothing else, Bunnymund had lost a close comrade. The guardian often known as Father Christmas suspected the ramifications were a great deal more poignant for his often-teased friend, but even his frequently naive grasp of a situation did not leave him without tact.

The sun was just cresting over the horizon, and Sandy began drawing in the streams of sand that had reached out like tentacles from the vehicle. The dream weaver might have been willing to let children slumber peacefully on other occasions. Until they knew why the days were short as in winter and not their normal summer length, the silent guardian recognized that regardless of how little they may believe in him, he owed it to the children to let them wake and play, enjoying what little time they would have in each other's company before another night would fall. The situation certainly looked bleak, but as the keeper of dreams, Sanderson Mansnoozie knew that there was no limit to a child's imagination. As ever, the guardians' best hope lay with the children.

Sandy attempted to distract North before the Russian bothered their friend – better to let the hare dwell on his thoughts when they had the time for such luxuries. His efforts in that regard, though, appeared to be wasted.

"I know you're starin' at me." Bunnymund's announcement actually startled a yelp from the largest guardian. The rabbit opened one eye, chuckling as he regarded his old friend before closing his eye once more. "One of the benefits of being a guardian, mate."

"Oh?"

"I know whenever someone's lookin' right at me."

The declaration pulled a hearty laugh from the Christmas spirit. "Da. We do."

Because the two were engrossed in their repartee, both were completely taken by surprise when Sandy stopped the car. The sudden halt caused them to lurch forward. As their transport was composed entirely of dream sand, their momentum sent them through the construct, dissolving it entirely. Levitating as his seat disappeared, the dream weaver shook his head and wagged a finger at them both.

"Have you found something?" Tooth's voice floated down to them as her large wings fluttered furiously, keeping her aloft while she continued to give rapid-fire instructions to her fairies.

Pulling himself up from the dirt, Bunny shook his head as he attempted to pat the dust from his fur. "You'd have to ask the driver, an' I'm not too sure he knows." Sandy put his hands on his hips, frowning at the lagomorph. "Hey, mate, I think you just stopped the car to throw me an' North out of it." The eldest guardian's face immediately morphed into a smile. Nevertheless, he shook his head gently to deny the statement. He pointed to the horizon.

The sun had crested and was rising higher as they talked. The sky's decidedly rose tone was taking on a blue hue as the new day dawned over England. Sunrise, though, was not the phenomenon Sandy intended to bring to the attention of his fellow guardians.

Seemingly barren throughout their entire nighttime journey, the land in front of them appeared to have fresh vegetation. Though not the type found in summer, the earth in the area they found themselves did not show the same signs of intense devastation. Bunny smiled, hopping towards the visible grass. Once he had planted himself firmly within a large patch of vibrantly green growth, he thumped his foot several times, watching with a grin as flowers sprang up with each of his steps.

Letting himself fall back onto the dew-soaked grass, the pooka allowed himself a brief moment of happiness, knowing he would have to point out the problem since North's cheers were being echoed by Tooth and her fairies and none of them seemed to be paying any attention to Sandy. Sighing, he stood, hopping back to the group and holding up his hands.

"Now, I'm as happy as you about the beautiful greenery. But Sandy's right."

Giving a fervent nod, the dream weaver relaxed slightly as he realized that he had not been entirely ignored.

"Chto? It is green over there … Oh." North's face fell as he looked about. The realization that they had traveled across the entire affected area was not lost on the group. The benefit to the journey, as Sandy pointed out with his dream sand forming a map and then shrinking inward, was that they now knew the size of the problem and could focus on narrowing their efforts. The group nodded as the dream guardian used his sand to form another mode of transport. Bunny smiled at the choice of a CAC Sabre Mk thirty.

"Might be a bit fast, mate." Shrugging, he used his dream sand to form the image of an engine with an attached propeller. A sand wrench appeared within the engine, slowing the propeller down. Bunnymund laughed. "Point taken." Climbing onto one of the wings, the hare fashioned himself a strap from the sand to make certain he did not fall from his perch prematurely. North's face clearly showed his concern with the new mode of travel, prompting a scoff from the rabbit. "You ride in a _sleigh_ at speeds in excess of thought, and you can't make yourself sit on the wing of such a beauty? And you say I'm scared of –"

"I am not afraid!" The Russian's declaration was very loud, and would easily have drawn the attention of any nearby. His cheeks reddened a bit at the realization as he climbed onto the other wing of the plane. "How did you make strap?"

"What's that, mate?" Sandy started the plane rolling forward, running through the motions of taxing just as though the group were on a mortal flight.

"The seat belt. You made a seat – ah!" Startled by the plane's sudden lift off, the jolly man forgot to finish his question. "Bozhe moi!" Bunnymund could not help but laugh. It was rare for Nicholas Saint North to be at all flustered.

* * *

Jack had spent the day causing mischief. He had forgotten what it had been like to be invisible, and though he took some joy in the small amount of havoc he created, there was little delight in it. He no longer felt the rush that he had before he knew Jamie – before he had known acceptance.

Each time a child laughed because of his antics, it was both a balm and a burden. Each chuckle reminded him that their fun would be all too fleeting. The joy he was uniquely known for creating could be nothing more than brief in this barren land.

After hours of the same hijinks from which he had once derived great joy, he found himself completely bored. His thoughts turned to the mysterious hag from the night, hoping she would find him once again. He consoled himself that the reason was because she could see him. No matter what she was, she made him aware that he was not alone. That single fact was nearly enough for him to seek her out.

When night fell, though, Jack chose to be prudent. He knew well that the hag would find him. Recognizing that he needed to keep some secrets from her, he kept his place on the roof of the town's main hall. If she sought him out, she could hardly miss him resting there.

The subject of his thoughts was standing in the shadows nearby, watching him. The disdain she felt for him – truly, for all of the guardians – was etched into her features. She turned away from him in order to compose herself. Looking into the reflection provided by the sheet of ice covering a nearby window, she forced the moue of disgust from her face. She began chanting a mantra, immersing her mind in the thoughts she knew would help her to her goal.

"Jack, I need to want you."


	5. Like Me

_Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians. I make no profit from this work of fiction._

**Special thanks **to snowing-in-the-spring-time – reviews are greatly appreciated, and I hope you continue to be interested in this tale.

For those who like to use Facebook to follow stories:

w-w-w [d-o-t] facebook [d-o-t] c-o-m /pages/RogueMudblood/684906514892205

Questions can be asked there, but I will remove abusive posts. _(Readers in Germany, Austria, and Switzerland will not be able to view the Facebook page. Due to their legal regulations, those countries were excluded from the viewing audience.)_

_Constructive criticism is most welcome – please don't hesitate to tell me what works and what doesn't._

* * *

He had followed her from the cave staying in the shadows. Pitch entertained no illusion that he had hidden his presence from her. Her eye, though, was not the one he sought to avoid. Regardless, he slithered along in the recesses, making his home in the voids of light that lined her path. Sneering when she reached her quarry, the king of nightmares could hardly keep from goading the haughty spirit as she turned her face from Jack. His chuckle was transported as a whisper on the wind.

Hearing the sound, Jack had risen from his reclined position, hovering stationary as he turned about to find the source. Pitch's eyes narrowed as he considered the options available to him. Gathering the closest shadows about him as a cloak, he began to rise. A clawed hand reached toward him, halting his advance. Curious, he kept his place, watching intently as she walked forward, chuckling deeply.

"A bit jittery, Jack?"

The ice wielder floated down to the earth. His staff began to lose its bright blue glow as he lowered it to his side. "I thought I heard … Nevermind."

Pitch allowed a grin to stretch over his face. It seemed her purposes were best suited in maintaining his secrecy – at least for the time being. Slinking back into the shadows, he watched the pair converse.

"You know, I've been thinking." She made a noncommittal hum which the young guardian took as encouragement to share his thoughts. "It's always winter somewhere in the world."

She walked a ways away from him, looking over her shoulder when he did not follow. "True." She let the lone word hang in the air as she turned from him once more, making her way through the streets of the town.

Pitch's eyes narrowed as he watched the two leave, Jack still spouting some nonsense he did not fully understand. The words became more of a murmur the further the two ventured from him. _Let her have her game_, the nightmare king thought. He had no complaints if her machinations kept the guardian occupied. Pitch would even help her directly if she proved to be able to sway Jack. For the time being, though, he knew too well that he needed to stay hidden. No matter how betrayed the ice wielder felt by the children of the world, he still would not side with an enemy that would see an end to him.

* * *

He could not help but be somewhat upset at his friend's continued absence. He had begun to think of Jack as _more_ than just a friend, which made the departure harder to bear. Despite his feelings on the matter, Bunnymund had done his best not to allow the others to see just how betrayed he felt himself. He supposed it had been inevitable. Jack had spent more years at odds with him than they had been friends, and their friendship had been somewhat tenuous at first. Those facts did not diminish his anguish.

The pooka pushed his hurt from his mind once more, returning his focus to the field in which he had been kneeling. He had felt like an idiot when he realized that he had been allowing them to work far harder than they possibly had to so that they could at least determine their enemy's location. Once he recalled that his affinity with the spring gave him an unparalleled insight into the growth patterns of the world around him, he had felt truly stupid for allowing them to travel all night without respite.

Though he had not complained, the journey had certainly been a hardship on Sandy. Toothiana likewise had not fussed about the strain on her ever-continual tooth collection. It was good of both of them to indulge him. The pair assured him that it had not been their intent – that if they had remembered it before him, they would have reminded him of the unique facet of his guardianship. Regardless, the moment he had recalled, he jumped from the side of the airplane they were using for travel. His departure set the craft off-balance as his jump to the earth below dissolved the wing on which he had been riding.

Watching the plane begin a rotational spin as it fell had been mildly amusing. The next time they pestered him about his abhorrence of various forms of travel – specifically North's magic tunnels – he fully intended to remind them all of the rather boisterous complaints that echoed through the English countryside.

Once everyone was safely on the ground, he had wasted no time explaining what he needed from the dream weaver in order to make best use of his own special gift. Sandy had nodded vigorously, opening a special bag of his dream sand. Sticking his hand inside, the silent guardian pulled out a handful of the dust, sprinkling it liberally over the lagomorph's hand to make certain it would function as expected. He smiled, waggling his eyebrows animatedly as an image of Jack formed above the rabbit's hand.

Bunnymund had blushed, dumping the dust to the earth and dusting off his hand quickly. Kneeling next to the fallen particles, he concentrated before placing his paw in the center of the pile. The edges of the dust began to swirl, changing shape to form the map of England. Standing over him, the dream guardian sprinkled more of the sand, watching as the previous image seemed to contract to a more precise area of the land.

Several minutes and a great deal more sand after he had started the endeavor, the hare had managed to form a viewable map comprising the area of land affected by whatever enemy they were sure to face at the root of this problem. Sandy had called his attention back to the task at hand at least twice. Bunny had scowled both times, as Jack's face had appeared within a specific section of the map. Once the endeavor was finished, though, the group found themselves staring at the map of the barren land.

Studying it for several minutes, the rabbit furrowed his brow, certain that something was wrong with the composition of the dream sand.

"Eh, Sandy?" The dream guardian formed a glittering question mark. "Why does the sand keep shifting outward?" The single mark turned into several as Sandy floated above the map to get a better look. As he watched, the borders of the map spread to the edges of the dust before reconfiguring the map, stretching beyond the area the hare had provided.

Standing over his shoulder, North offered his own observation. "Is possible it is getting worse?"

"Crikey, mate!" The lagomorph had jumped at hearing the Russian so close. His booming laugh filling the air, the Christmas spirit allowed himself the brief moment of levity. Shaking his head, Bunny smiled. "You do have a point, though – and it's a scary thought. We need to get to the bottom of this quickly. Because if that is the reason, this evil is growing too quickly."

Her hummingbird wings fluttering behind them, Tooth flitted in circles as she whirled over the group. Coming to rest on a tuft of air directly behind Sandy, she leaned over the dream guardian's shoulder. "We should head for the center, then. North, can you open a portal to that spot?" Punctuating the question by pointing to the middle of the map, her tone brooked no argument. In all of the centuries that the four had known each other, the three male spirits could count on one appendage the number of times that they had seen Tooth irate. As the Russian prepared a magic orb for their journey, they exchanged glances.

Tossing the orb, North watched intently as the guardian of memory flew headlong into the tunnel before it was fully formed. Bunnymund watched the other two follow her a bit more sedately, giving one last look to the icy earth beneath his feet. Hopping along behind them, he spared a thought for whoever was behind this problem. They would certainly regret messing with Toothiana by the time she had finished with them.

* * *

She had quickly become bored of his rambling. If her plan did not rely on his participation, she would have encased him in his own ice. Her temper was fraying quickly, and she knew well the reason. Her energies were waning. As she had spent the previous night entirely in his company, she had not taken the time to replenish herself. The daylight prevented her from sating her hunger, leaving her to relegate her most necessary task to someone she disdained greatly.

Having no choice in the matter unless she wished to starve another night, she had covered for the nightmare king when he had nearly given himself away. She had been tempted to allow him to do so. The only reason she had refrained was because the young guardian knowing of his nemesis' presence did not serve her purpose. She needed him weary but not yet broken. A fight with Pitch could send him in either direction of the emotional gamut, a risk she was unwilling to take.

A spirit can only take so much trial, though, and she had reached the end of her endurance as he asked once more why she could not simply be happy traveling on the wind and allowing it to take her to harbor wherever winter might be. Finally she spun on her heel to face him, her hood falling back and showing him her face, more hideous in her anger.

"I am bound to this land. I am only whole in winter, and – for now – I am stuck here in England." Even in her rage, she tempered herself, preventing her identity from becoming known to him too soon. He had asked her name, and she had delayed giving him one twice while changing the subject the other three times he had inquired. His reaction to this small revelation was somewhat unexpected.

"Well, let me help free you. What keeps you here?"

No doubt the boy had heard the same legends as are told to all of the mortal children, with djinn being bound to lamps and leprechauns to pots of gold. She dared not play her hand too quickly. If she revealed her binding, he could know her identity, and where he now looked at her disfigurement with pity, he would come to see it as a just penance for her crimes. Keeping her own counsel, she waved off his concern.

"It is of no import. I am happy merely to enjoy this winter, however long it lasts." She smiled as those words elicited the desired reaction from him, a cool blast of air wrapping around her like a soothing blanket, snow falling to cover her path. "I do tire, though, Jack."

He nodded, making mention of visiting some children as he headed off into the darkness.

Once he had vanished, the shadows to her right began moving towards her. "I had thought he never would leave."

"I need him, Pitch." The nightmare king allowed the shadows to melt away from his form, his disgust and surprise both evident on his features. "I can't break him yet – he hasn't done what I require. When he's broken, you can have him. I'll have no use for him then."

An unholy light gleamed in Pitch's gaze as he considered the possibilities of her promise. He had once offered Jack the opportunity to join him. The potential of their abilities together was enormous, but the young idealist had refused him, rebuffed him in the most brusque way. No matter how correct he had been in his judgment of character, the nightmare king had been highly insulted that the winter guardian would choose to accept a life among those boring do gooders than to journey the world with him, having fun and creating a special kind of chaos wherever they roamed.

He welcomed the opportunity to demonstrate for the guardian just how poorly he had chosen. Using his shadows to hide his companion, Pitch mused over the many options that would soon be available to him, a malicious smile covering his face as he joyfully imagined each of the numerous choices. With the plenitude of possibilities playing before his mind's eye, he took little notice of the fact that he was being used as his shadows moved them to the neighborhood he had chosen for her.

Moving through the cover of darkness, she made her way to the nearest house with a child in residence. She did not bother with the front door, instead tapping on the child's window. As the young girl peered out into the night, her innocence captivated the malevolent spirit. Her evil smile covered by the shadows in which she hid, she tapped the window again with her talons, their long, yellowed form obscured by the lack of light.

The girl opened the right hand pane slowly, waiting for the gust of winter wind that greeted them all too frequently during the day. Not feeling the bitter chill she had expected, she opened the window wide. She placed her hands on the sill, pulling her small body halfway through the frame as she took in the night air. Her eyes were closed as he basked in the rare moment of calm. Of late, the wind had not ceased blustering, and she was taking care to bask in the brief respite. Too late, she realized her mistake.

Gnarled fingers grasped her arms tightly, yanking her the rest of the way through the window. Her shriek of surprised terror quickly turned into a choked gasp for air as the breath was stolen from her lungs. Her eyes widened with knowledge of her attacker a scant moment before they rolled back into her head as she lost consciousness. The dull roar of her blood being pumped through her small body was the last sound she heard as her heart beat its last.

Hearing the smacking sounds a little distance away, Pitch approached the shadow in which he knew his companion hid. He hissed at her as he sensed the change within the house. The girl's mother woke and ran to the room, shrieking as she saw the window open. Moving back, the nightmare king took his shadow with him, leaving his companion visible to the matron of the house. As the woman reached the window, she stared out into the blackness of the night, able to clearly see the blue-tinged skin of her daughter's attacker.

Screaming echoed through the alleyway before the woman slammed the window closed, leaving her daughter's dead body to lie on the pavement until morning. Her shouts of terror could be heard clearly even through the walls of the home.

"I told her not to tempt the witch! No! My Abby!" Her wails were music to Pitch's ears as he knew that she would have many nightmares. Her misery would fuel him for a good while. "Black Annis stole my poppet!"

The witch in question strolled sedately down the street, uncaring of who saw her. The light meal had sated her for the moment. Pitch's broad smile was the only thing visible in the alley once she departed, the ethereal glow from her skin making the human streetlamps seem dim by comparison.

"Soon, Jack. You'll see how much better it is this way. Then you can be like me."


	6. Want to Need

_Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians. I make no profit from this work of fiction._

**Many thanks** to AmaraRae, Marissa E Hirshenson, Maximus Potter, Seryyth, The Girl With The Red Pencil, and xXxMystical-DreamerxXx – each favorite and alert is appreciated!

**Special thanks **to snowing-in-the-spring-time – reviews are greatly appreciated, and I hope you continue to be interested in this tale.

For those who like to use Facebook to follow stories:

w-w-w [d-o-t] facebook [d-o-t] c-o-m /pages/RogueMudblood/684906514892205

Questions can be asked there, but I will remove abusive posts. _(Readers in Germany, Austria, and Switzerland will not be able to view the Facebook page. Due to their legal regulations, those countries were excluded from the viewing audience.)_

_Constructive criticism is most welcome – please don't hesitate to tell me what works and what doesn't._

* * *

"One of these days, mate. One of these days." Bunnymund's Australian drawl was not – for once – directed at North. Years of having the rabbit travel through his magical tunnels had given him many a chuckle. On this particular occasion, however, the complaint was directed skyward. As the Russian followed his long-eared friend's gaze to the heavens, he noted the aspect of the moon in the sky, nearly laughing aloud as the celestial orb seemed to wink in response to the grievance.

Scowling, the guardian of hope smoothed down his fur as he took in their location. The ground beneath his paws was hard and firm, slumbering as the earth did in winter. He thumped his right foot, bitterly unsurprised when the flowers which customarily sprouted at that action did not bloom. Shaking his head with some sadness, he raised his gaze to his fellow guardians.

"Right then. Ideas?"

A methodical thunk and clack in the distance as the sun disappeared behind the horizon caught their attention. The group headed towards the sound, speeding up as a woman's terrified gasp was carried to them on the wind.

"Piers, no!"

Bunnymund rounded the corner into the woman's back yard in time to see her rushing to the door, the others coming to a quick halt behind him. Her fright was palpable. Its nearly tangible presence surprised them, as did her lack of concern for her own well-being as she dropped the axe in her sprint.

"It's just one more load to carry, Mum."

"Stay inside." Her words were forceful, startling even North with their vehemence. "I'll get it."

"Mum, you can't possibly –"

"Piers, help gran with dinner, or play a game with Conall. But _don't_ come out here."

Throwing his hands up in exasperation, the boy went back into the house. Tension seemed to leave the woman with the torrent of air she exhaled. Toothiana fluttered behind the woman as she retrieved her axe and returned to the stump where she had been chopping wood. The fairy became more concerned when she saw the woman's glistening tears as the rolled down her cheeks.

Raising her face to the moon, her reaction became obvious to the group. Taking note of her apparent grief, Sandy's normally brightly glittering sand dimmed a bit. He squared his jaw, nodding decisively as he rose into the air. He entered the woman's house taking no note of the physical mortal barriers. A brief moment later, he returned to the group, his sand having resumed its customary brilliance. The dream weaver's normally relaxed and jovial features were set in a mask of determination. Momentarily perplexed by the change, Bunny quickly understood as the mother's words carried to him on the next breeze.

"Please. If there is one good being out there, I pray you keep my children safe. I've never been one for superstition and never one to worship deities." Her soft tones were nearly inaudible as she pleaded. Tears rolled down her cheeks, leaving streaks of skin awash in salt amidst her dust-covered face. Swinging the axe into the air, she embedded it with some force into the tree stump before crouching down to pick up the wood she had chopped. The wood gathered in her arms, she stood, staggering under the weight of the chopped logs. She walked slowly to the house's back door, glancing up to the sky once more before she pried it open. "Please. Save the children."

The guardians watched quietly as she entered the house, resolve etched into their features. Eyes narrowed, Bunnymund turned back to face his companions. "We intend to, sheila. Right, mates?"

The sound of Toothiana cracking her knuckles was punctuated by North's baritone echoing across the darkening yard. "Da, tovarisch."

* * *

As the sun crested over the horizon, the dawning of a new day did little to bring cheer to the dreary streets. Jack wandered through the town, the mischief in which he often enjoyed embroiling himself no longer holding the same thrill. The woman whose company he had been keeping lately seemed to take joy in winter – which was of comfort to him since so many only looked forward to his season because of its affiliation with Christmas. He certainly held no ill will towards North. The jolly guardian helped preserve the wonder of the world's children, and their delight with his enchantments often meant great fun and merriment for the ice wielder.

With spring having reverted to winter for England, though, the children were no longer willing to play in the snow. They had found no joy in skating on the ice, no pleasure in making a snow angel, and no delight in a slight shiver as dancing snowflakes showered about them. Sadly, his attempts to convince the woman who seemed to at least know what was causing the shift in the weather fell on deaf ears. Until she had revealed that she was bound to the isles, he had thought she was ignoring him entirely.

Lying on his back as a gust of wind carried him lightly down the street, Jack was oblivious to the children standing on the pavement below. He did not notice as one tapped another, then another, directing attention towards him. It escaped him entirely that he had a small entourage following him, watching him with awe and wonder. When the wind settled him on a bench near a statue, the spirit simply folded his hands behind his head. It was only the feeling of a drop of water splashing next to him that caused him to look up.

To say he was stunned by the gathered throng would be an understatement. Even as a guardian, Jack had often not been visible to many of the children who could see North or Bunny. He felt no shame in his envy of Bunny for the popularity the lagomorph enjoyed. It often served as a point of contention between the two as the rabbit would frequently tease him about not being seen. Those conflicts would quickly devolve into playfully caustic comments. Regardless, he had never been surrounded by as many children as had gathered about him while he lay on that bench.

Giving a meek wave, he watched with a growing grin as each child waved back. "Ah, hello. I take it you can all see me?" Several of them were somewhat slack-jawed, but they nodded as a group. Swallowing his pride and knowing that he was setting himself up to be hurt again, he pressed onward. "Why?"

One of the boys, somewhat stockier than the rest, spoke up. "You're the winter king, ain't ya?"

Jack's brow furrowed. "Where did you come up with that name?"

"What's it matter?" a little girl's petulant voice rang out. "You are, an' that's why we ain't got no harvest."

Turning to her, he patted the bench beside his leg, hoping she would come to sit. Tentatively, she did. "Actually, I hadn't been here since before Easter." Several of them regarded him with clear disbelief. "No, honestly. I have a pact now with the Easter Bunny –"

"Pshaw!" The stocky boy sneered at him. "Easter Bunny ain't real. No more so'n the Tooth Fairy."

Letting a wide grin light his face, Jack nodded. "Oh, they're real alright. As real as I am."

"Can't be."

The whisper had come from directly in front of him. There stood a small child, no more than five years of age, holding a tattered brown rabbit firmly in her arms. She squeezed the toy to her chest tightly, using it to cover the plain material that was serving to shield her frail body from the elements. The long sleeves of the dress were frayed at the cuffs, the fabric worn thin from being laundered too often. Jack's eyes dimmed as he took in her form, sadness washing over him at her state.

"Why do you say that?"

Her hazel eyes locked with his cerulean gaze, her stare saturated with hope. "If they were real, they'd make the winter go away."

The ice wielder considered her words carefully. "Well, winter often continues even after Easter. Didn't it still snow after Easter this year, but then spring started to come?" Scrutinizing their faces, Jack could see each child trying hard to remember. He smiled as several began nodding slowly. "And you all hunted for eggs this year, didn't you?" Several giggles could be heard as confirmation. "Well then. You know the Easter Bunny is real."

"Right then. What's your proof for the Tooth Fairy?" The boy had his arms crossed over his chest, the stance an obvious dare contesting Jack's attempts to bolster faith in his fellow guardians.

Smiling, the fun-loving guardian mirrored the boy's stance. "What proof do you have that she _doesn't _exist?"

Sneering, the boy fairly spat his reply. "You ain't got nuthin' sayin' she does, do ya?"

"Why don't you believe in her?" Jack asked sadly. "You believe in me."

The group exchanged glances with each other, a soft murmur covering the crowd.

One of the older girls piped up. "All she does is take teeth, right? I mean, what does it matter if we don't believe in her?"

"Then why do you believe in me? All I do is spread winter mischief." To demonstrate, Jack charged his staff, letting the eerie blue glow draw their attention as he formed ice sculptures in the air. As several of the children began shivering, their gaze fell away from the shepherd's crook he wielded. Gasps of fright peppered the air as they took in the numerous winter carvings he had created.

"He's creating more winter! You shouldn't have brought us to him, Bronwen. He'll freeze us all, and keep us for _her_ for sure now!" Shrieks surrounded him, distressing the white-haired guardian. Since he failed to grasp their meaning, the admonishments they used against a tall, brown-haired girl confused him greatly. He understood the tone, however, and moved to protect her, letting the ice sculptures he had been creating for their amusement dissolve.

"She's in league with him, she is! Made a deal to save herself from Anny – if she gives the rest of us up!"

Though Jack did not understand what the children were referring to, he did know that this was going to end poorly for the girl if he did not put an end to it quickly. He did the only thing he could think of to stop them from advancing on the child. Raising his staff above his head, he called to the elements over which he held sway. The wind carried him high into the air over the gathered group.

A wall of ice flashed in front of them, several shielding their eyes as best they could as the sun glinted off of the shiny surface. Gusts of wind blew about the children quickly, their velocity keeping the group pinned in a circle. Snow swirled about them, rising and falling with each tumultuous breeze. As the children screeched and moved closer together, the winds began to quiet, finally ceasing their raging to reveal a perfect frozen statuette of the girl they had been prepared to attack. Scrambling backwards, the young mortals fled in terror.

Jack floated back down, letting his feet lightly touch the ground. The snow swirled gently around his ankles as he approached the sculpture. Nodding, he turned from the ice figure. As he approached the snow drift the small storm had created, he drew the cold back into himself. The girl stared up at him in wonder.

"Bronwen, wasn't it?" She nodded, too shocked to speak. Holding out his hand, he waited for her to take it before escorting her down the street in a direction none of the children had scattered. "Now, tell me. Who is this Anny they were talking about?"

* * *

Pitch had been watching him from the shadows all day. Since his defeat at their hands those many years ago, the nightmare king had come to a very clear realization. He did not need to be seen in order to be powerful. A lack of belief could cripple a guardian, but as long as the world had fear, he could easily obtain whatever he wished. He had been too eager to rule when Jack had entered the scene, too quick to turn a potential ally into an enemy for wanting him out of the way. The lesson had been bitter, but Pitch certainly did not intend to repeat his mistakes.

When Jack had called up the winter elements and disbursed them several minutes later to reveal the frozen girl, the dark prince had genuinely smiled. Perhaps it had not taken as much as the witch had thought it would in order to sway the ice wielder. His joy was shattered as he watched the snow drift melt to reveal the child safely encased inside. Hearing the question about their blue-skinned 'friend', Pitch considered briefly smashing the ice sculpture in order to divert the guardian's attention. Finally determining it would be an impetuous act, he simply watched as the pair walked away, keeping to the shadows a small distance from them so that he could hear their conversation.

He listened intently as the girl described Annis, noting that she left out some of the more telling of her physical traits. Likely the omission was unintentional, but the nightmare king would not discount some possible influence the witch had over the girl. Making a note to be sure to determine the chances of such a possibility, he was unable to suppress a toothy grin when he heard the tremor of fear in the child's voice.

The delightful thing about spending time with Annis was the fact that the fear she called to the surface wasn't limited to a child's nightmares. Her power extended to adults, and anyone of any age could see her as long as they believed. The same might be said of any of the spirit world, but it was hardly notable if an adult could see a seven foot rabbit. The mortals would simply assume intoxication and be on their merry way. Seeing a jolly round man with a twinkle in his eye that fit the accepted description of 'Old Saint Nick' would result in gentle smiles and reminiscing of childhood wonder. Seeing a white-haired man with a glowing blue shepherd's crook making snow angels would send the mortals back to ideas of inebriation, or perhaps the abuse of more potent substances.

Annis, though, was shrouded in the night, and the witch was the architect of terror in this part of England. It had been their folly that had allowed her to gather so much power, and for his part, Pitch intended to use that mistake to his utmost advantage. He would stay near her for now, and let her use his shadows in order to travel. Once she became a burden instead of a boon to him, though, she would quickly find out just how powerful and determined an adversary he could be.

* * *

Having seen the girl safely home, Jack sat alone on a rooftop. He had heard the woman who had kept him company the past couple nights calling to him some time ago, but had ignored her invitations to join her for the evening.

The youngest guardian was musing over several things the girl had said, and over the event with the children in general. He had been taken aback by how quickly they had turned violent, and understood that whoever this Anny was, she threatened the children of England. He had begun to understand why the children had lost their faith. As the one boy had pointed out, he had no proof that Tooth existed – and really none that Bunny did either.

Thinking of his blue-furred friend had him reclining on his back, staring at the stars. Freezing the moisture in the air, he formed a small bust of the Australian. Tracing his finger over one of the ears, he smiled wistfully, before allowing a melancholy to fall over him once more. His memories of their recent escapades in the warren were tainted slightly by his notable preoccupation with regret. Staring into the icy eyes he had molded, Jack's voice was little more than a whisper carried on the wind.

"I want to need you, Bunnymund. I really do."


	7. Prove It

_Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians. I make no profit from this work of fiction._

**Special thanks **to snowing-in-the-spring-time – reviews are greatly appreciated! I really am glad you're still liking the story. Annis isn't the nicest character, no. But I am happy to know that I'm writing her well enough to make her unlikeable. :)

_lovelysalem_ – Please don't be offended that your review was removed. If it doesn't pertain to the story I'm posting, I don't let it stand (if it's a guest review). Having said that, I did pass your message on to those who would most benefit from the information you shared with me.

For those who like to use Facebook to follow stories:

w-w-w [d-o-t] facebook [d-o-t] c-o-m /pages/RogueMudblood/684906514892205

Questions can be asked there, but I will remove abusive posts. _(Readers in Germany, Austria, and Switzerland will not be able to view the Facebook page. Due to their legal regulations, those countries were excluded from the viewing audience.)_

_Constructive criticism is most welcome – please don't hesitate to tell me what works and what doesn't._

* * *

Conall knelt down to scoop up a handful of snow, giggling as he packed it into a tight ball. Ducking down behind the frosted-over bushes at the sound of boots crunching on the frozen ground, he tried to stifle the sound of his laughter.

Smiling, Piers stood on his tiptoes, leaning over the shrubbery to see his brother crouched in waiting. Deciding to play along, he turned away, cupping his hand over his mouth and calling out to his sibling. The volume of the younger boy's giggles increased slightly. Taking a step away from the bushes, the older boy grinned broadly.

"Conall!"

The snowball that connected with his back made him shiver as the moisture seeped through his sweater. He spun, a mock-scowl fixed on his face as he charged through the bushes at the younger boy, knocking them both back into the snow. The pair rolled about, their clothes quickly becoming drenched. The ground crunched beneath them as they disturbed the frost-laden grass.

Conall's high-pitched giggles filled the air as the boys played, drawing grins from adults passing by and curious looks from the children who looked out from their windows to see what was amiss. After several minutes of shrill squeals and ear-splitting screeches, Piers stood, dusting the snow from his breeches before offering his brother a hand in rising from the deep impressions they had made in the snow. Grin fixed firmly in place, the younger boy grabbed the offered arm and pulled himself up. Occupied with cleaning as much of the winter precipitation from his clothes as he could before it melted, Conall did not take note of the gathered children until his brother said something.

"Hi. Wanna build a snowman?" Several of the children appeared confused by the brothers' frivolity. Piers began packing snow together tightly in a ball before rolling it along the ground. Shrugging, one of the other boys began helping him push it about. After doubling the ball's size, both boys were chuckling and smiling. Conall had occupied himself with another pair of boys building a fort from the bricks they fashioned from tightly-packed snow.

By midday, the group had constructed an impressive winter stronghold. Ramparts reaching over Conall's head were lined with snowballs. A cavern dug into the thickest part of the wall held a stockpile of ammunition for a campaign against the other group. Hidden by the height of the parapets, the younger boy's giggles once again peppered the air. Looking around for his brother, Piers took note of the fort with widening eyes. His surprise at what the younger kids had accomplished caused him to drop the head of the snowman he had been lifting to place atop the already decorated body.

Shaking his head amidst the joking complaints from those helping him, the older boy crouched down to pack the snow together once more. Concentrating on forming a tight center for the head before beginning to roll up the dusty winter precipitation once again, the snowball which pelted him in the back came as quite a shock. The quickly melting wetness seeped through his sweater, trickling in a path down his back. Wet and cold, he shivered, but continued to smile good-naturedly before lobbing the ball he had been preparing towards the winter garrison. It traveled in a nearly perfect arc over the walls of the fortress, the splat it made sounding loudly as it echoed off of the fortress' walls. A shriek followed the well-aimed contact. Giggling echoed through the street from both groups as snowballs flew in every direction.

Tsar Lunar watched from his place high in the sky, smiling at seeing the group of children play so freely. Though the moon's face was hidden by the daylight, his eyes were always watching. He would have to wait for nightfall to show his guardians how pleased he was with their progress. Until then, he would occupy himself by watching the young mortals enjoy their whimsical games.

* * *

Bunnymund had asked Sandy for some more of the dream sand after watching over the slumbering children during the night. The dream weaver had studied him for several moments before nodding and giving him a small pouch full of sand. The diminutive guardian had heard the boys giggling their amusement during the night as they slept, feeling a sense of accomplishment that he had done some good for at least two of Britain's children.

Watching as the pooka bounded off with the pouch of sand, he suspected he knew his fellow guardian's intent. He found himself wishing that providing consolation for his friend was as easy as solving the difficulties of the children's dreams. He knew the lagomorph trusted him, and Sandy hated to betray that trust in any way. Still, he had no means to block his connection to his own dream sand – something that Pitch had not realized when he tried to commandeer the magical substance for his own twisted purposes.

The diminutive guardian had no option but to watch as the sand surrounded the leporine paw. He keenly felt the sadness and joy that overcame his friend in equal measure as Jack's image formed in the glittering dust. Closing his eyes in the hopes of keeping North and Toothiana from asking him about the melancholy coming over him, Sandy witnessed the rabbit's attempts to locate the prodigal guardian using the same method that had led them to this village. Several times the ice wielder's face appeared in the glittering mass, but each time that the hare tried to focus on placing him in England, the face would dissolve.

He dared not send a message to the long-eared guardian of hope who was using the sand. It was possible, he mused, that the subject of his search was no longer in the Isles. Yet even as he considered the remote chance, he discounted it. No matter how disenchanted Jack felt, he had never abandoned the children. He had been the one, after all, to point out to them that they were spending far too much time in bureaucratic oversight and ignoring the opportunities given to them to directly guard the belief of the world's youth. The memory made Sandy even more certain that the white-haired guardian was still in Britain. That left few explanations as to why the sand could not locate him, and they were possibilities the dream weaver did not want to contemplate.

* * *

"I miss you."

He was talking to sand. He knew that, and yet it still made him feel better. Seeing his companion's smiling face staring back at him – even if it was the wrong color and glittered – was better than not seeing it at all. Grateful as he was for Sandy's understanding, he was aware that his time was limited. They could not tarry long with any delay of their mission, and he still hoped Jack would return to them.

Reaching out a paw, he lightly traced the air above the sand, caressing the line of the ice wielder's face. "I do understand. And I was harsh then." He hesitated before continuing, feeling as though he needed to explain himself, and not knowing when he would have the opportunity to do so directly. The moment's pause allowed his anger to overwhelm his sorrow, giving him the chance to vent the bitter feeling of betrayal that flowed close to the surface.

"You don't make it easy to love you, though, Jack. Leaving at the first sign of difficulty. Don't you think we could have helped you through this?" Because he was glaring at the sand apparition, the rabbit noticed the change in the eyes. They seemed sadder after he had raised his voice – not hard as he might have expected the younger guardian's eyes to become, but the same morose sentiment they had reflected back at him when the wind carried off his wintry friend. Frustrated, the hare clamped his mouth shut, regarding the sand disdainfully. Reaching for the pouch Sandy had given him, Bunnymund had prepared to scoop the mess back into the cloth confines which could magically bind it when he observed the transformation.

Leaving the sand where it lay he thumped the ground, opening an underground tunnel directly back to the town. Shouting over the short distance for the others to come quickly, he kept his eyes on the glittering map. He had given up on it showing him where to find his friend. Perhaps that was why the sand had finally given him a clue by showing him a path, one which intersected the very place they were resting while they considered their options.

Toothiana had been merrily giving instructions to her fairies, not paying a bit of attention to anything around her as she sent them bustling away. As a result, she was startled enough to squeal her surprise when the shout came through the tunnel Bunny had opened. She scowled briefly as she watched North and Sandy disappear into the hole. A smile lit her face once more, though, when the chirped question entered her ears.

"Of course you can come, my darlings."

Diving into the tunnel with her wings laying narrowly against her back, the guardian of memory grinned as she heard the giggling children behind her. Her happiness changed to mild confusion as the mirth seemed to grow closer, morphing into complete shock as several small mortals sailed past her along the floor of the tunnel, laughing gleefully.

Emerging on the other side to find Sandy entertaining several small children while North talked to the long-eared Australian, she was surprised when one more young boy came sailing through the tunnel. His momentum carried him high above the earth. The sounds of laughter that had peppered the air moments before quickly turned to terror. She did not even consider possible consequences as she furiously flapped her hummingbird wings in order to catch the falling boy.

Now empty, the underground route sealed itself as the pair landed safely on the ground once more.

"Th-thanks." She smiled at him, crouching down so she would be eye-level with him.

"You're most welcome." He beamed at her as she stood, keeping a tight hold of her hand as she walked over to see what the Russian and the rabbit were discussing so animatedly. A few moments of listening to the pair gave her some insight. Bunnymund had assumed he could use the dream sand to find their prodigal guardian the same way he had found the size of the affected area in England and focused on the center of the disturbance. The hare was demonstrating what he had done, focusing the sand into a mold of Jack's face, when the boy piped up again.

"Hey, I know him!"

The pooka's ears perked up and his eyes widened a bit as he turned to the boy. Having heard his exclamation, another boy came over to them, shushing the obviously younger child.

"Conall!" The older boy's voice was little more than a hiss. "He helped."

"Yeah. He did." Conall regarded the other boy quizzically. "Don't you recognize them, Piers?" When the older boy shook his head, Conall's chest puffed up with pride at knowing something his brother did not. Touching the fairy's arm as he released her hand he said simply, "This is the tooth fairy."

"You've gone 'round the twist." Piers looked at his younger brother with clear concern. "Seriously, you've got to be cracked."

"No," The younger boy shook his head emphatically. "I'm not, and she is. That," he began, pointing at North, "is Santa Claus. And the one showing him pictures is the Easter Bunny."

"Right." The older boy made his disbelief evident in his tone. "Then who's the golden one?"

Conall smiled. "He's the one that gave us good dreams last night. That's the sandman, of course." The guardians were beaming, glad that there were still children who believed. As they had all traveled through the tunnel, their faith had been proven, regardless of whether they recognized the subjects of that conviction when face to face with them. Continuing with his introductions, the boy pointed out Jack's face, still hovering in the air. "And that's the Ice King."

Making a short hop, Bunnymund crouched in front of him. "So you've seen him?"

Nodding quickly, Conall smiled. "Oh, yes. I was scared of him at first. I thought he was like _her_." North exchanged a quick glance with Sandy as the boy shivered at merely the thought of this mystery being. "But he wasn't. He took away the snow and ice when I started to fall, so it didn't hurt when my hands hit the ground." He held up his palms to show them that he was unbruised. "I think I made him go away though."

Barely able to keep his face from showing his sadness at hearing this, the rabbit simply tilted his head to one side. "What makes you think that?"

Lowering his head, clearly ashamed of what he was about to say, Conall told them about the morning before, when his mother had been chopping wood and the axe had slipped. "I glared at him, 'cause I thought he did it. But he didn't. He froze the axe in the air before it could hit mum's leg."

The older boy came forward, standing beside his brother. "So if you want to hurt him, we're _not_ going to help you!" Piers' declaration was punctuated with a sharp nod as he bravely stared down the formidable looking Nicholas Saint North. The Christmas spirit could not help the boisterous laughter that erupted from at the thought that he could harm his fellow guardian.

"We are looking for him, da. But we do not want to harm him."

"Maybe a tiny bit." Bunnymund's muttering was picked up by Sandy, who wagged a finger at him in admonishment. The rabbit merely grinned in response, causing the dream weaver to cover his mouth, hiding his mirth behind his hand.

Conall and Piers seemed to be having a silent conversation as the Guardians watched. The other children were content to sit back and observe. Whether they had met Jack or had any insight to offer about why England was so frozen in summer, they kept silent on both matters. After several minutes of silent deliberation passed, Piers crossed his arms over his chest, directing his attention to the tall rabbit.

"You say you won't hurt him."

Crossing his finger over his heart and holding up his right paw, the hare answered, "Not on my life."

The boy's eyes narrowed. Toothiana tried not to distract the others with her stifled giggles as she watched Conall imitate his older brother's stance. The shorter boy did not quite have the carriage to simulate his brother's bearing. Her attention was effectively diverted from the younger boy's antics by Piers' insistent response.

"Prove it."


	8. I'm Cruel

_Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians. I make no profit from this work of fiction._

**Special thanks **to sakiko of soleana and snowing-in-the-spring-time – reviews are greatly appreciated! And I love getting them on every chapter. :)

**Many thanks** to ladyhobbit93, Myth C Angel, and RipWitch – each favorite and alert is appreciated!

I'm grateful for **all** the people reading the story, and I'd love to hear from each of you. Even if what you have to say isn't entirely positive.

For those who like to use Facebook to follow stories:

w-w-w [d-o-t] facebook [d-o-t] c-o-m /pages/RogueMudblood/684906514892205

Questions can be asked there, but I will remove abusive posts. _(Readers in Germany, Austria, and Switzerland will not be able to view the Facebook page. Due to their legal regulations, those countries were excluded from the viewing audience.)_

_Constructive criticism is most welcome – please don't hesitate to tell me what works and what doesn't._

* * *

It was rare for Jack to walk instead of allowing the wind to bear him aloft. He used the mundane activity to help sort his musings, the snow crunching underneath his bare feet. His thoughts were in turmoil. The children he had encountered were terrified, so much so that it overwhelmed their ability to believe in anything good. Several times throughout the night he had looked up to the moon. One thing had not changed from before he had met Jamie though. The man in the moon may have created him, but he certainly had no intentions of explaining things to him.

The white-haired spirit knew he could not stand idly by while the children became too scared to believe in anything other than what terrorized them. They had more than proven that with their reactions to him. Despite his wanting to show them something fun, the kids had quickly become frightened. Their trepidation had extended to an immediate attempt to attack one of their own friends simply because she had been the first to begin following him when they had seen him floating on the wind. He had been devastated by their reactions to the idea that he would freeze a child. The response served to increase his own disappointment.

Even recognizing the emotional upheaval he was undergoing, the winter guardian could hardly deny that witnessing the mass hysteria of the town's children had deeply impacted him. Bronwen had accepted their fear. She had understood it. Jack had been astounded by her willingness to empathize with the children. The girl was also intent on maintaining her faith in him, which had surprised him to no end. Jack had assumed that when children stopped believing – as Jamie had – they simply no longer _could_ believe. The truth, he found, was far more complicated.

These children had lost faith in decent spirits. Many of them had even _seen_ Bunnymund, yet they refused to believe in him. Despite all of his arguments in support of his friends, even Bronwen could not be swayed into accepting the reality of Toothiana or Sandy. When he had mentioned nightmares, though, she had shivered. Though the girl did not recognize Pitch's name, it was clear that the shadowy man held a place within the dark part of her mind wherein she allowed fear to reside.

So preoccupied with his musings, Jack failed to notice that the shadows were growing ever closer to him. Despite the lack of direct sunlight to account for their presence, the dark shades grew ever larger, their forms distorting as they approached the winter spirit. Tendrils extending from the edges of the main mass stretched towards the bare feet traipsing through the icy landscape. As the pieces of darkness crept ever closer to their quarry, they moved to overtake his path. Oblivious to their existence, the ice wielder was unaware of the coils curling in on themselves as he lifted himself onto a passing breeze.

Silver eyes flashed in the darkness as thin lips stretched over gleaming white teeth, forming a grimace on the sallow, grey tinged face peeking out from the depths of the shadows. The mass retracted back to surround its master, enveloping him in a cloak of black shade. The snow reflected what little light there was nearby back onto him, highlighting the mask of hatred distorting his features as he watched Jack fly away.

* * *

Annis was incredibly patient. She had learned, in the more than a millennium she had existed, that biding her time was beneficial. When she had hidden herself among the trees, culling her meals from passers by before they had been able to see her clearly, she had exercised great restraint. She knew not to take more than her due. The dark spirit had known there were greater threats with which the mortals were consumed. When Pitch had taken center stage throughout Europe, she had not objected. She recognized that she needed to remain as unobtrusive as possible to keep herself from drawing the attention of enemies she could ill-afford.

Because she had learned to wait, she had survived the lean times. Aware of such beings as Tsar Lunar, the witch knew the value of postponing action until the right moment. Such determination had served her well during the years when meals were scarce. Days would pass without anyone being foolish enough to be caught out at night in her territory. When such things happened, it was not uncommon for her skin to shrink about her skull, tightening around her eye sockets to the point of making her lone eye bulge from its pocket. The blue tinge of her skin in those times was often attributed to a cold which would permeate the bones of every denizen of the land. Ironically, times of hunger for the greater populace would often turn into times of plenty for Annis as a result of the 'charity' the mortals would teach their children to extend to strangers.

Curtailing his desire for importance was not a virtue that her current associate possessed. She could not concern herself with his shortcomings. She would use him until she no longer needed his assistance. The greatest benefit he was to her at the moment was in his relationship to the Guardians. While her power was growing, she held no illusions that she could defeat the group if she came in contact with them. It was sheer luck that she had come across the one she most wanted to encounter alone when she had. It had not escaped her that his thoughts were in turmoil. His heart, however, was the one thing she intended to exploit from him.

Dwelling on these matters had not been her intent upon entering her cave for the day. Like most spirits, she did not need slumber. That was not to say she _could_ not sleep, a fact that the humans had once learned and harnessed to great effect. Her patience had served her in that as well. As the mortals had fought wars which shamed any horrors she had ever visited upon the little borough she inhabited, they lost any notions of fearing creatures such as her. Arrogance in their own abilities and confidence in their own superiority led to their neglect of ceremonies that had been held for centuries.

Exploiting that presumption, Annis had bided her time. She had exercised the restraint for which the British isles were renowned the world over. Even as she waited for the sunset which would allow her to seek out the winter guardian once more, she remained unperturbed by the possibilities Pitch had presented to her before he had vanished from her abode. She would wait, as she had learned to do from many years among the mortals. At nightfall, she would determine for herself the extent of any damage to her budding hold over the youngest guardian.

* * *

Night seemed to be falling earlier in Jack's estimation. He could not be certain, as time did not pass for him in the same way it did for the mortals. Regardless, it seemed that the disfigured woman who loved the winter had popped up beside him the moment night fell. She tilted her head to one side as she regarded him.

"You seem to have had a rough day, Jack."

He shrugged. "Something happened yesterday." The ice wielder kept a close watch on the other spirit, gauging her reaction to his words. She appeared merely curious as she asked for details. Relaying the events of his encounter with the children, he omitted his conversation afterward with Bronwen. Her response was not entirely what he had expected.

Clapping her hands gleefully, the blue-skinned woman danced in delight, the wind twirling the snow about her giving her the impression of an ice princess. For the first time in Jack's memory as a spirit, he shivered. Even when disgust had coiled in his stomach at the thought of the world Pitch wanted him to help create, he had not given in to the overwhelming desire to shudder. Faced with this creature's joy in the face of the horrible intentions of the town's children though, he could not resist the tremors that shook his spine.

Finishing her dance and seeing his grimace, she told him she was merely pleased with his own creativity in his attempts to entertain the townsfolk's progeny. The youngest guardian remained unconvinced. Still, when she beckoned him to walk by her side, he willingly joined her. She refrained from giving him an open smile. Where he might have been grateful for the restraint before he had spoken to Bronwen, the spirit's reaction to his tale had made him want to compare her features to those described by the young girl. Even her hood remained firmly affixed, though, thwarting his efforts to determine any possible parallels of her face with the description of the witch he had been given.

Apparently sensing his preoccupation, her hand reached out, sharp talons clacking loudly against the wood of his staff. The ice that made its home on the shaft of Jack's shepherd's crook receded from the spots where her touch alighted. Whether such had been her intent, the reaction immediately caught the winter spirit's attention, returning his focus to her and their nightly promenade.

"You miss your friends." The ice wielder shrugged. She turned from him, releasing her hold on his staff. "One in particular, I think." His eyes narrowed.

"Were you listening in on me last night?"

"No. But I hardly have need to." She turned to face him, her eye raking over his figure from head to toe. "You wear your emotions in every fiber of your being. You are desolate, much like this land right now."

Her words startled him, giving rise to an uncomfortable train of thought. He shook his head, choosing to ignore the idea she had presented with her observation. Instead, he answered only the first query. "Yes, I miss them."

She nodded, turning as she continued to walk. Looking about them, Jack noted with some surprise that they had somehow managed to leave the village again. Having traveled with the wind for centuries, he knew well that it could easily displace him with but a thought. Since meeting this woman, it seemed to bend to her will, removing them from mortal civilization. The ice wielder could not help but wonder why she felt such isolation would be necessary.

As though she had heard his thoughts she turned to him, smiling. "I like to walk along the hills outside of the developments of man. I spend all day in a cave, Jack. Would you not also become bored of looking at stone?"

True to his nature, the younger spirit responded with an impish grin. "Point taken."

They walked in silence a while. Realizing she had no intentions of revealing her identity – and if she were indeed the being he suspected her to be, he knew well why – Jack considered the options available to him to force her hand. That she was crafty was not in doubt. The ice wielder thought back over their long conversations, his memory revealing to him that she had repeatedly allowed him to verbally dominate those encounters. Allowing a gentle breeze to carry him a small distance away from her, he was startled from his musings as her voice carried to him.

"Have I bored you then?"

"No, no. I'm just..." He let his voice trail off, truly uncertain as to how much he wished to reveal by ending that sentence. She saved him the trouble.

"Contemplative." She grinned at him, a glint of mischief in her eye. He could not help but return the gesture. "Fancy a spot of fun to take your mind off it?"

Cocking his head to the left, Jack gave her a toothy grin. "What do you have in mind?"

In the blink of an eye, they had traveled over one hundred miles. The ground was still covered with a dusting of snow, and frost still crunched under her leather boots as she walked. He hovered alongside her, both keeping silent as they crept up behind the children out far too late in the evening. She made sure her hood was firmly in place, hiding her features completely before bending down to scoop up some snow. Packing it into a ball, she held it in front of Jack. Smiling, he breathed on the ball, knowing that when it impacted, the pair would have a playmate, if only for a little while.

With but a thought, he held out his hand and formed another. The pair let the snowballs fly through the air, their perfect aim causing the projectiles to connect with two different children. Those two began giggling before they scooped up their own wet snow, making their own winter rockets and launching them at their friends. Within minutes, the group that had been heading quietly to their homes were playing loudly in the street, all worries of evil spirits having evaporated.

Hovering behind one group, Jack kept them supplied with ammunition, a simple wave of his staff creating an arsenal for their disposal. Not caring where their missiles had come from, the children quickly opened fire on their counterparts as they all took cover behind trees and bushes along the sidewalks to keep from being pegged by the wintry substance. Caught up in the fun of the moment, the young guardian created a wall of ice between two trees, allowing the group opposing his own some semblance of a fort while he kept the children on his side heavily supplied with the winter armaments.

The scream that rang out from behind the wall he had made ended the merriment. The children scattered, none of them taking note of the spirit rushing over while waving his staff to melt the wall he had created. Two children were standing over a third who was gasping for breath as she tried to stand, her legs giving way as she slipped on the wet ground beneath her. Seeing her predicament, Jack drew the winter weather back, allowing the girl to gain her footing. His companion frowned, her lone eye glinting in the moonlight.

Landing in front of the children, the ice wielder whispered to her that her face had been revealed. He had himself been repulsed by her missing eye and sallow skin. Because of that, the white-haired spirit certainly could not fault a child for the same reaction. Her response surprised him.

Her voice was a hiss to match the disgusted sneer that twisted her lips. "I know, Jack."

The children quivered behind him as she took a step forward, causing him to brandish his staff against her. "You're scaring them."

"I know that too. I _mean_ to scare them."

Jack's eyes narrowed as he regarded her carefully. His staff glowed blue as he prepared to defend himself and the children if need be.

Seeing his intent, she pulled the sleeves of her robe back away from her hands, her yellowed talons shining in the light reflected off of the snow below. One of the children gasped, her name a whisper in the breath that escaped. Taking advantage of the moment, the ice wielder made the decision to confront her.

"Why, Annis?"

Her teeth gleamed as her lips lifted into a smile. "I thought you knew. _I'm cruel_."


	9. Always Wondered

_Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians. I make no profit from this work of fiction._

**Special thanks **to snowing-in-the-spring-time – reviews are greatly appreciated! I know it's probably odd for someone to tell you that they're glad you hate a character, but given she's the villain, I'm very glad she's loathsome.

_My apologies for the lateness of this chapter. I was caught up in notifying a published author of the plagiarism of their work by an individual on this site who has seen fit to leave the stolen content, even after the true author of the pieces asked them to remove it directly. Since I'm actually writing these chapters every day, not just posting them one by one, some of my time normally devoted to writing went into that endeavor._

For those who like to use Facebook to follow stories:

w-w-w [d-o-t] facebook [d-o-t] c-o-m /pages/RogueMudblood/684906514892205

Questions can be asked there, but I will remove abusive posts. _(Readers in Germany, Austria, and Switzerland will not be able to view the Facebook page. Due to their legal regulations, those countries were excluded from the viewing audience.)_

_Constructive criticism is most welcome – please don't hesitate to tell me what works and what doesn't._

* * *

The children seemed to be frozen in place behind him. Jack was quite certain that they were too terrified to move. Staring into Annis' sole eye, he considered the actions available to him without risking any harm to the children. Grasping his staff tightly, he raised the glowing shepherd's hook. Calling to the wind, the white-haired guardian created a squall of flurries, aiming the wintry storm directly at her. Evil laughter echoed in the nearly empty street. With her palm facing upward, she waggled her fingers at him. Her talons clacked against one another as she closed her hand about the falling flakes.

"What's she doin'?" The girl who had been slipping on the snow peered into the darkness even as she wrapped her arms about herself in an attempt to stay warm against the sudden blizzard.

"How should _I_ know?" Pulling hard on her elbow, the boy who had helped her to her feet moments before attempted to drag her away from the scene. Stepping back from the witch without taking stock of his surroundings proved to be a mistake. He tumbled into the third of their group causing all three to tumble into a heap on the frosted ground.

Annis' cackle grew in volume, silenced only when she stopped to take a deep breath before opening her hand. Her fingers seemed to uncurl slowly, though Jack was almost certain the retarded speed was a trick of his mind. Her exhalation was deliberate and measured, the breeze blowing across her palm and displacing the flakes echoed on a much larger scale as the ice wielder's blizzard turned on him.

"You forget yourself, Guardian. I have consorted with the wind longer than you've existed!"

The howl of his long-trusted confidant conveyed its discontent with the situation even as it deposited a large volume of the frigid flurries on Jack. Where the breeze normally caressed his face, this bitter gale bit at his skin, its chill causing his pale skin to quickly become even more wan. The clacking of teeth behind him reminded him of the severity of outcome of this battle.

"_She sucks their life away."_ Bronwen's words seemed to come to him from nowhere. Serving to strengthen his resolve, the white-haired spirit quickly formed a high wall of ice separating Annis from the group. Holding his staff towards the wall, he reached another hand behind him, drawing the cold from the ground under the children into himself. Directing the cold through the shepherd's crook, he watched as the edges of the wall he had created began to curve outward and back.

Turning his head slightly to the children, he surveyed the area, making note of the massive amount of snow and ice still on the ground. "Can you get to the street?"

"Yeah, I think so." The voice had come from the bottom of the pile.

"Good. Wait for me there." His tone brooked no argument. The seriousness of their predicament was not lost on the young mortals. Though they could choose to take their chances on escaping without his aid, the possibility that all three of them would successfully escape the evil seeking to consume their souls was slim. The decision to wait on the spirit offering them aid was an easy one to reach.

"Okay."

The girl sitting at the top of the pile scrambled off of her friends, offering a hand to the boy who had been sandwiched in the middle. As he helped his friend to stand, he could not refrain from asking, "Who're you talking to?"

Shaking his head, Jack knew he could not worry about one child's non-belief at that moment. Reaching his left hand out towards the exposed snow and ice, he focused on drawing its frigid energy into him and channeling it through his staff. Slowly, the edges of the wall continued to curve out towards the witch. Her cackling could still be heard even over the howling of the winds she directed at them.

The two who could clearly see the guardian grabbed their friend's hands, dragging him to the street as patches of ice began to thaw, revealing the pavement beneath. "Can't you see him?" The girl was panting as she extended her arm, pointing at the youngest guardian.

"You won't defeat me, Jack!" Punctuating her words with a cackle, the witch continued to force the wind to carry the snow towards the wall of ice in front of her.

Sweat trickled down his brow with the effort he was expending. Slowly the top of the wall began to curve, the sides rising to meet it. He had never attempted to use his gift in this manner. The process of melting the products of winter was counter-intuitive. He was more than willing to pursue this attack, though. Her taunt did not escape him, and the ice-wielder made a valiant effort at keeping the strain he felt from permeating his voice as he responded. "I'll settle for slowing you down."

For the first time since she had begun blowing his tempest back at him, Annis looked about herself. The wall at which she had been projecting the winter wind had grown. She found herself encased in a prison of ice and snow as the three growing walls met each other behind her. Her angry yell was captured by the dome Jack had made. Thickened by the ice and snow she had been hurling towards it, the front where the guardian stood merely cracked with her shouts. Not able to immobilize her and aware that the ice dome would not hold the older spirit for long given her talons, the ice wielder quickly created an ice slide over to the children.

"You okay, mister?"

Waving off their concern as he approached, he slowed only long enough to hook the collar of the boy who could not see him, dragging the unbelieving boy onto the path he was creating.

"C-cold!"

"Cripes sake, Alfie! You can't see him, but you watched that ice form a ball 'round the witch same as we did. Least you can do is not whine about the way he's getting us away from her!"

Jack chuckled at the girl's cheek. "Which way is home?" Though he would never pass up an opportunity for mischief under normal circumstances, the guardian had a duty to be pragmatic. Even when Jamie could not see him, he had saved the boy from harm. He would do no less for these children, regardless of their belief.

"Two blocks up, turn to the left." The guardian nodded to the girl, calling once more to the wind to help speed their journey. Within moments they had made it to the turn, Jack curving the ice slide around the corner at a speed that would have caused most cars to crash. Alfie squeaked slightly in shock. The boy had been studiously watching the dome, so he was the first to see Annis clawing her way free, her sharp talons having finally breached the wall.

"Where?" His tone was sharper than he intended, but the girl did not seem to mind Jack's brusqueness. Leaning over his shoulder, she pointed to a two story brownstone whose front door was wide open. Adults were standing in the street in front with lanterns, no doubt planning a search of the neighborhood for the missing children.

Angling the slide to the ground, the guardian landed the group at their parents' feet. Turning sharply, he placed the butt of his staff against the pavement. The radiant blue glow which normally suffused the shepherd's crook whenever he called on the ice and wind was brighter than it had ever been. Even when he had battled Pitch astride his nightmare, he had not felt so much energy course through his being.

"H-how?" One of the stunned parents managed to stutter out one word as the children landed on the pavement. Another offered a hand up to each child in turn. Alfie was the last to stand, staring steadfastly at the glowing figure not fifty feet from his aunt's front door.

"Who is that?" The other two children turned, following the line of his arm to find him pointing at the guardian.

"The ice king, you wazzock. He's the one what brought us here. See him now, do you?"

"Iris! I've never heard you speak to anyone in such a way!"

"Mum, I've good cause! This plonker could've got us all killed. 'Play in the snow after dark' was it? An' with Annis showing up!"

The collective gasp of the adults rang out through the street serving to momentarily distract the guardian. The subject of their discussion took full advantage of his lapse of concentration, squeezing through the gap in the ice wall he had created to span the width of the street.

"Out of time, Jack dear."

"Inside! Inside now!" The adults were trying to gather the children to them quickly while using their bodies as shields between the young mortals and the witch who sought to consume them. Calling the wind to her side, Annis upset their efforts. Utilizing a strong gale, she swung the brownstone's door closed. One of the children had scrambled up the steps and into the entryway mere seconds before the gust knocked him from his feet. Landing on the hardwood floor of the foyer, the breath left his lungs in a painful huff, forcing him to take time to recover his strength before reaching for the doorknob to open the portal once more.

The delay in making the home accessible to the other two only served to increase Annis' delight. Her mirthless laughter echoed through the neighborhood. A slight breeze blowing past their faces, the frightened mortals shivered as the snow began to swirl around them, keeping them from seeing that the door was once more ajar.

Taking quick stock of the situation, Jack knew that he would need to resort to drastic measures in order to save the children. His face was a mask of fury, the anger coursing through him a reminder of the time that he had thought Sandy had been swallowed up by Pitch's evil. His tactics in that battle had been completely foreign to him. Mischief making had been taken to an entirely new level when he had frozen the nightmare sand.

The ice wielder knew he could not freeze the wind she was using to cause the confusion and facilitate her approach to the group. Recognizing that he had no direct means to attack her other than fisticuffs – which would certainly result in her repulsing him into the air with a blizzard, Jack shook his head in disgust. From the corner of his eye, the wall of ice he had created made him pause. Turning to take it in fully, he gave a firm nod before jabbing his staff once more onto the pavement. A spectacular glow surrounded him as he raised his left hand, forcing the monolithic wall to rotate.

Watching him, Iris had not been as quick as she needed to be in scrambling up the steps. Annis' hand wrapped firmly about her ankle, jerking the girl back down the two steps she had manged to climb. Her hands scraped against the pavement as she tried to catch herself. Her mother's shrill screams filled the air, the audible terror echoed in her own core. Focusing on the hand pulling her closer to her imminent death, Iris clawed at the blue skin surrounding her ankle. She realized her folly in not accounting for the other hand when it backhanded her, forcing her face up to the sky.

Finally able to look into the girl's eyes, the witch smiled. Her lips stretched thin over her sharp teeth, a deep, throaty chuckle escaped her. "You're mine now."

Iris felt herself slipping from her body as the words left the evil spirit's mouth. Her mother's horror-filled wails dimmed. She fancied she could see her soul as the black mist seemed to enter Annis' gaping maw. Her heart beat slowed in her chest. Ears ringing, she tried to reach her hand up in protest, but the limb would not respond to her brain's sluggish commands.

"I don't think so."

As suddenly as the feeling of suffocating death had come over her, it left. Iris watched with widening eyes as a solid wall as high as the brownstones and as wide as their street slammed into the witch. Shocked by the sudden change and completely oblivious to their savior, the adults scrabbled to get Iris into the house. Allowing herself to be hoisted into the air, she called out a hearty thanks to the guardian just before the door slammed shut on the two spirits still in the street.

The children jockeyed for the best position at the single window, staring out into the dark in an attempt to see the outcome. Exhausted from the near-miss, the parents insisted that the group move away from the panes, insisting that it was possible the evil spirit could find her way into the house if they made themselves known to her.

Once they were no longer watching him, Jack allowed his fatigue to briefly overwhelm him, slumping to his knees in the snow. Breathing deeply, the mischievous guardian attempted to regain the energy for which he was best known. Several minutes of silence gave him cause to think that Annis had gone off to lick her wounds. She would certainly not be seeking his company any longer, but he would need to be certain to make the effort to ferret her out each night.

Clapping from the shadowed doorways forced Jack back to his feet. The sound was slow and deliberate, filled with disdain. He recognized it even before its author stepped into the light of the moon.

"Oh, well done, Jack. Hitting her with a _wall_? Don't you think that was a bit much?"

"Pitch."

The nightmare king affected a mock bow. "At your service."

"What do you want?"

Shadows gathered about their master, shrouding him in darkness even as he stood under the full light of the moon. His teeth glistened as he smiled malevolently. "Why, just you, Jack."

The youngest guardian had expected an attack from nightmare sand, or for one of the darker spirit's ebony horses to appear and force him to use the ice and wind to fend it off. A shadow coiling around his ankle hardly seemed believable. Shaking his leg in an attempt to dislodge the offending tendril, he was sufficiently distracted from the right cross Pitch delivered. It connected squarely, sending him back to his knees. The taller spirit's hand grasped Jack's white locks tightly, forcing his head back.

Cerulean blue eyes widened in fear as the nightmare scythe appeared in Pitch's hand. The sound it made as it arced through the air sent shivers sliding up the younger spirit's spine. Cringing as the blade connected with his hand where he clenched his staff tightly to him, he felt his energy draining. Pitch's voice echoed in his head as his conscious awareness wavered.

"Always wondered what this'd be like."


	10. I'm Broken

_Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians. I make no profit from this work of fiction._

**Special thanks **to Seryyth and snowing-in-the-spring-time – reviews are greatly appreciated! I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as the last. :)

For those who like to use Facebook to follow stories:

w-w-w [d-o-t] facebook [d-o-t] c-o-m /pages/RogueMudblood/684906514892205

Questions can be asked there, but I will remove abusive posts. _(Readers in Germany, Austria, and Switzerland will not be able to view the Facebook page. Due to their legal regulations, those countries were excluded from the viewing audience.)_

_Constructive criticism is most welcome – please don't hesitate to tell me what works and what doesn't._

* * *

Piers had been adamant about not giving up any information on Jack. Willing only to tell the group that the youngest guardian had been in the town, he and his younger brother had clammed up when the tall rabbit had tried to get any more details. Conall had crossed his arms over his chest, the defiant stance looking particularly endearing on his youthful form. Evident in his mulish expression, the boy's obstinance mirrored that of his older sibling. The pair had faced down the immortal spirits, refusing to betray their mother's savior.

Despite numerous attempts to cajole the particulars of the ice wielder's visit to this specific hamlet, the quiet that permeated the atmosphere could not be overcome. No matter the method employed, the boys maintained their silence, unsatisfied with Bunnymund's various efforts at providing evidence of his desire to help his missing friend. In the end, the group had been forced to concede to the children that Jack had left them, not because of any act on their part, but as a result of his own fears. The revelation had startled Conall.

"_He's the ice king! What could possibly scare him?"_

The question had hung in the air unanswered. Not wanting to respond, the guardians had exchanged glances, grateful when a voice had called out loudly, beckoning the children to their homes. Keeping his eyes on the spirits, Conall had nibbled on his lower lip with his upper front teeth for several moments as the other children ran off. Piers had tugged on his brother's sleeve, coaxing the other boy to leave with him. Nodding his head as he came to a decision, the boy had stumbled slightly as the older boy's attempts to make him depart became more forceful.

"_You want the evil witch. They call her Annis."_

As soon as those words had parted the boy's lips, he had turned from them, running alongside his brother as they left the guardians.

Several hours after those parting words, the four spirits were still wandering through the English countryside, making their way to each village that Bunny's inadvertent discovery had shown Jack had entered. With his ability to travel along the wind, the mischief maker had visited numerous places over the short time they had been in Britain. The map which had revealed his friend's path was causing the lagomorph a great deal of consternation. His irritation only increased with each failed search, as did his fear that something terrible had happened to their white-haired compatriot.

Sensing the rabbit's growing distress, North insisted that he remain with Sandy outside the town the Russian had chosen as their next stop. When Toothiana had supported the tattooed behemoth, the hare had let his shoulders sag and nodded sadly. The dream weaver conjured a sofa for the pair to sit upon as they awaited their friends' return. Raising an eyebrow at the glittering golden couch, Bunnymund smirked. Showing his more comedic side, the guardian of dreams had fashioned the sand so that Jack's visage was clearly visible on one of the cushions. The façade even mimicked many of the younger spirit's mannerisms. As the lagomorph approached the piece of furniture, the image stuck its tongue out at him.

Smiling broadly, Sandy floated over and sat down on the left arm of the sofa. The fun-loving guardian's face moved to the back of the left seat, staring pointedly at the tall rabbit standing opposite. Once Bunnymund met its gaze, the eyes turned their attention specifically to the right cushion before cutting quickly back to the hare. The rapid movement of the glittering eyes as they darted from him to the cushion brought a smile to the rabbit's face. Raising his hands in surrender as the face began to frown, he moved to take the spot apparently assigned to him.

Heaving a great sigh, the pooka looked at his old friend. The golden question mark above Sandy's head was echoed in the eyes staring at him from the next cushion. Shrugging his shoulders, he stared down at his hands before answering the unspoken question.

"I guess I might have gotten a _little_ carried away at the last stop."

A golden exclamation mark hovered directly in front of the rabbit's face, causing him to jump a bit as he looked up at the dream weaver. A sparkling sand image of himself in miniature stood before him, steam visibly being released from the long, twitching ears in puffs of dust. Wry smile twisting his lips, the hare held his hands up in surrender.

"Can you really blame me though?"

The image in front of him morphed into one of North physically restraining the sand bunny from behind, the Russian's arms wrapped firmly about the hare's torso. Toothiana-in-miniature floated in front of the pair, one hand outstretched to stop him as her sand wings fluttered furiously behind her. Taking in the image, the pooka laughed boisterously.

"I wasn't quite _that_ bad!" Sandy's eyes widened to comic proportions. Glittering golden eyebrows raised high on his forehead as the dream weaver stared incredulously at his furry companion. Ducking his head, Bunnymund conceded the point. "Okay, well, _maybe_ I was." The sand figures floating in front of him changed form once more, the image of a tapping foot materializing from the dream dust. "Oh, _all right_!"

Huffing, the lagomorph stood. His furrowed brow provided a clear expression of anger. Dissolving the couch, the ancient guardian of dreams used his sand to form a steam locomotive with a highly productive engine. The cloud of dream dust shaped as exhaust ran in a continuous stream from the train's smokestack. After a revolution around the rabbit's head, the dream version of the iron horse returned to its originator by way of the sand hare's ears. A giggle from behind him had Bunnymund turning sharply. Finding Toothiana standing there, his countenance became more curious than irate.

"Well?" The impatient tone to his voice ruffled the memory guardian somewhat. Left hand moving to her hip, she jabbed at the rabbit with the index finger of her right.

"Don't you take that tone with me, mister."

Stepping back and raising his paws in surrender, the pooka capitulated. "Sorry, sheila."

The fairy nodded. "That's better." Turning from the pair, she flitted a small distance away, pivoting when she realized that they were not following. "What are you standing around for? We've got to catch up to North before he finds out something more in the next town and leaves us with no trail to follow at all!" Her hummingbird wings rapidly churned the air as she took flight, Bunnymund bounding along behind her as Sandy followed the pair on a cloud of dust.

* * *

North had hoped to have more information by the time the group caught up to him. Seeing the hopeful expression fall from the face of the _guardian_ of hope was distressing. To keep it from becoming a regular occurrence, the Russian pursued any avenue of questioning that promised answers among the children who could see him.

Having spent several hours tracking the missing member of their quintet, the large guardian of wonder felt he had finally gleaned some details which might lead them to Jack's location. When the other three caught up to him, he was handing out candy canes to the young mortals gathered about him. The disappointment that had hovered around the rabbit throughout the day threatened to show itself once again as North stood.

Clapping the pooka on the shoulder, he leaned in to whisper his news. "I may have something, tovarisch." He waved to the children, encouraging them to get indoors before the sun set so their parents would not worry. The group walked a distance from the children, their path marked only by the prints left by Bunny's paws and the Russian behemoth's boots.

Sufficiently removed from the mortals, the hare turned to the Christmas spirit. "Well?"

"There was an incident here with a girl named Bronwen. She has not been outside since it happened, afraid that the other children would attack her again."

Tooth's hand quickly covered her mouth as she gasped. Sandy's eyes narrowed, his right hand forming a fist. Boomerangs appeared in the pooka's hands with little movement on his part. North held up his left hand to halt their response.

"Jack saved the girl from harm." A silly smile crossed the rabbit's face at the simple statement. "They say he left this morning. Two of the boys saw him leave on a strong gust of wind." The Russian punctuated his last statement by pointing in the direction he had been given for the mischief maker's departure.

Not waiting for the others, Bunnymund thumped his foot once before hopping off in the direction indicated. Shaking his head, the taller spirit simply traipsed after the increasingly impetuous pooka. Hovering beside Sandy, the fairy shrugged her shoulders in response to his dust-formed question.

"I don't know, but for all our sakes, I do hope it's soon."

Silence passing between them, the pair headed for their comrades, the dream weaver creating a motorcycle to help them speed along behind the bounding bunny quickly covering ground in an attempt to get to the next town briskly. As he approached the lumbering Russian, a sidecar formed from the dream inducing dust. The opening to the front allowed the transport to scoop up its quarry. His surprised shout echoed in the air as they sped off to the next village.

* * *

Dark had come long before the group was ready. Four towns had children who had all seen the winter guardian, yet none of them could provide any particular details about the ice wielder. Bunnymund's nose had twitched when they left the last group, veering from the path they had been following steadily since North's dramatic revelation about Bronwen and her encounter with Jack. The wind seemed to approve the rabbit's change of course, calming from the nearly gale-force gusts which had threatened to dislodge Tooth from the air.

The moon was high in the sky when they came upon the next village. Stopping as they heard voices, the group did not even attempt to hide their presence any longer. Too few of the children had been able to still see them individually, much less as a collective. Almost universally the younger children could see at least one of the guardians. Without any thought to possibly causing a problem among the group they approached, the quartet made their way towards the boy speaking so casually about the evil witch they all feared would lead them to their missing companion.

"I'm tellin' ya. Tha' was Black Annis." A short boy stood with his arms crossed, nodding his head emphatically at his own declaration.

Scoffing in disbelief, a girl standing slightly taller than he discounted his claim, waving her hand as though to discard the statement entirely. "Pshaw! You're wonky if you think –"

"Then you tell me, Aggie, why Iris would scream like that. She's not one what scares easy, you know." His hands had moved to his hips in his anger. The pair had taken no note of their observers, leaving that task to the third of their party who had been gawping at the guardians throughout the exchange. "Oh, what _is_ it, Bernard?" Tugging on the sleeve of the older boy, the dumbstruck child pointed. He turned his head, intent on rebuking the younger boy for wasting his time when he was in the middle of arguing his point. The admonishment left him instantly, his jaw falling slack as he took in the blue-tinged fur of the incredibly tall hare looming over them.

"Evenin', mates." Gasping for air, the most intelligent response any of the three could muster was a monosyllabic grunt of incredulity. "Which way did this witch happen to go?"

Looking avidly between the two older children, Bernard swallowed noisily when he realized that they were too shocked to be able to respond to the query. He simply pointed, earning a smile and nod from the rather imposing rabbit. Tossing an egg to the boy as he bounded off into the darkness, Bunnymund left the others to offer more verbal thanks if they desired. The three remaining simply shrugged before following in his wake, his paw prints in the snow making him very easy to track.

Using his nose to help direct him, the pooka bypassed the obvious scene of winter merriment that remained. Shaking his head at how out of place the phrase was in June in the Northern Hemisphere, he simply continued on his path. Concluding that either the witch did not walk on the ground or that more snow must have fallen to cover her tracks, the lagomorph paused as the scent he had thought was on the air suddenly stopped.

The shock of hearing Jack's voice consumed with pain immediately after he had halted nearly caused the hare to hyperventilate. His ears flattened against his head as he heard the tell-tale buzzing of Toothiana's wings approaching.

Without even slowing, the fairy scooped up the much larger guardian, carrying him as though he weighed no more than the teeth her fairies collected nightly. The bellow that had rung out in the night had not abated, its tortured undertone distressing them. Increasing in volume as they approached the source, the shouts of agony caused them both to grimace. As Tooth turned the corner, the pair could clearly see their nemesis hovering over their obviously injured compatriot.

His shouts of anguish leaving his throat raw, the ice wielder barely knew the pain had abated. Ears ringing from the volume of his own screams, he did not hear the comforting words North whispered to him before rushing into battle alongside the others. Finally able to open his eyes, the winter guardian looked about, finding only blackness greeting him. Shaking his head in an attempt to clear his vision, he stood, extending his hand outward and calling his staff to his side from where he had dropped it once the nightmare king's scythe had been removed from his flesh. Hearing the battle slightly in the distance, Jack used his ears to help direct him. Jabbing the butt his staff onto the pavement for the third time that evening, he brought forth a torrent of icy weather once more, aiming it in the direction of the malevolent laughter.

Knocked from his feet by the tidal wave of ice and snow that had dissipated as suddenly as it had appeared, Pitch snarled at the guardians as he lifted himself from the ground. The fairy hovered directly in front of him, once again passing a quarter between her fingers. Unwilling to fall to her feet twice, he sneered at the guardian of memory, taking the opportunity to flee the scene before they could regroup and attack him in earnest.

"That's right! Run!" Sheathing his boomerangs, the pooka bounded over to the white-haired guardian, wrapping his arms about him in a crushing hug. "Ah, good ta see you again, mate." He closed his eyes as the younger guardian embraced him. Feeling the tears falling into his fur, the rabbit shushed his friend. "Hey, there. What's all this? 'S not like we'd ever leave ya to the likes o' that drongo."

Shaking his head, Jack lifted his face from the rabbit's smooth fur, using his hands to try to pat the wet spots dry, unknowingly rubbing several patches of fur in the wrong direction. "It's not that, kangaroo."

"Feelin' better already, I see." The lagomorph's dry tone caused the other three to simply smile at him, knowing how much he had missed the most mischievous of their number.

"Ha." The ice wielder's tone was far less forgiving in its irritation.

"What is it, Jack?" The sound of Tooth's lilting voice had him turning from the hare, trying to locate the fairy. Certain he was facing the right direction, he forced his eyes open. Still unable to see, he could feel the tears forming once again.

"My eyes are open."

"Well, yeah, mate." Bunnymund's confusion was echoed in Sandy's glittering golden question mark.

"Yeah." The forlorn quality of his speech could not be mistaken. "But I can't see you." He turned towards the direction of the barely audible gasp followed by a very Russian curse. "Any of you." Pivoting once more so that he would have been looking directly at the long-eared companion whose opinion had come to be more valued than any other, Jack let his shoulders slump. "I'm broken."


	11. Needed This

_Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians. I make no profit from this work of fiction._

**Many thanks** to guardianofartbravery – each favorite and alert is appreciated!

**Special thanks **to Kai2 and snowing-in-the-spring-time – reviews are greatly appreciated!

Kai2 had an excellent observation with their review. The answer shall be revealed shortly. :)

For those who like to use Facebook to follow stories:

w-w-w [d-o-t] facebook [d-o-t] c-o-m /pages/RogueMudblood/684906514892205

Questions can be asked there, but I will remove abusive posts. _(Readers in Germany, Austria, and Switzerland will not be able to view the Facebook page. Due to their legal regulations, those countries were excluded from the viewing audience.)_

_Constructive criticism is most welcome – please don't hesitate to tell me what works and what doesn't._

* * *

She had not come into being with only one eye. Though she had no memory of ever being mortal, she could clearly remember a time when she had possessed binocular vision. She had no doubt that the missing organ was in part responsible for her defeat at Jack's hands. Granted that she intended to make certain his victory was certainly a short-lived one, her irritation at his having managed one _at all_ showed in every fiber of her being. Not prone to fits of destructive temper, she had simply resigned herself to the loss of the meal once she had risen from the crushing blow the ice wielder had managed to deliver.

As Pitch had said, using a wall to flatten her was 'a bit much' in her estimation. Since he had not seen fit to reveal himself and come to her aid, she returned the favor. A mildly demented smile had alighted her lips once the youngest guardian had unleashed a literal wave of ice and snow on the unsuspecting older spirit. Having witnessed his departure, she had prepared to call the wind so that she could also effectively flee. The white-haired spirit's words had been carried to her on the breeze, causing her to pause in her actions. For a moment, she had reveled in his misery.

Deciding to depart before the group realized she was no longer lying unconscious in a snowdrift, she had summoned the wind to her aid. Taking one last look at Jack she had found him staring in her direction. Whether he was incapable of seeing her at all or he was merely having trouble determining her identity given the shadows in which she was hiding she had been unable to ascertain. The issue was moot once she had taken her leave of the scene, riding the gust of wind from the town entirely.

It had set her down on a white-capped hillside. Two hours before dawn, she still wandered on that same snow-covered ridge, entirely uncertain whether she could salvage any of her previous plans.

She had known that Pitch was an unreliable ally. From the beginning of their time together it was clear that he intended to use her just as much as she expected to exploit him. Unfortunately, her hand had been somewhat forced. The child's untimely revelation of her identity had not escaped the guardian. No longer able to twist his self-doubt to her whim, action had been required. Because of that necessity, she had lost her greatest advantage and was forced into an unenviable position as a result.

Since his arrival in England, Annis had intended to use the nightmare king as a pawn. She had waited for this very opportunity for hundreds of years. It had taken more than a century for the accumulated magic of the observed ancient rituals to dissipate enough to allow her current freedom. Were she an impetuous witch, she would surely have attempted to extend the winter in an earlier year. Her growing strength had often given rise to flights of fanciful thought. She resisted the temptation to simply abandon her goals, though, focusing her energies instead on testing her newly found powers in small ways.

Winter coming two weeks earlier than usual – its arrival being heralded not by sudden arctic blasts and inexplicable blizzards, but rather by cooler temperatures settling in earlier in the year – would easily be explained away by the mortals. They would attribute the event to a cataclysmic environmental catastrophe, the authorship of which they would claim themselves. Arrogance had been their downfall throughout their history, and it was the one human trait that could be exploited repeatedly without fail. Annis had every intention of using their self-importance as a weapon.

She had been successful. For a decade, she had extended winter quietly. Fall and spring were shorter with summer seeming inexplicably hotter in comparison to the months on either side of it. Only the witch – and several mortals who fell prey to accidents – could claim to know the truth of the situation. Summers were only as hot as they had ever been, but spring and fall were much cooler owing to her efforts. Frost as late as Easter became a commonplace phenomenon. Snow falling well into May slowly developed into a regular occurrence. Ice covering the roads as early as October ceased being an oddity.

When Bunnymund had made his appearance in the town closest to her cave and she had seen the forlorn looking creature by his side, she had immediately become curious. The hare often arrived in the nighttime hours to hide the eggs holding various surprises for the children. Though it was rare for the holiday, she could sometimes catch a child wandering about after the rabbit departed in the predawn hours. Tragic for the mortals, but a delicious meal for her oft starved palate.

As she had watched the pair tuck the treats away, she had noticed the younger spirit breathing on the eggs, covering them in frost. He had smiled at the outraged shout from his friend once he had been caught at it. Seeing it, though, had given her the final impetus to set her plan into motion. Whether he could be corrupted remained to be determined. Annis did know, though, that she would be able to counter any effort he made to thwart her. Her own affinity for the ice, snow, and wind gave her a unique defense.

It had taken much more effort to revive the legends that had once been told about the horrors she visited upon the people of her glen. Great pains had gone into making certain that while the evil she was capable of resurfaced, the weaknesses which had once imprisoned her did not. By the time Pitch had descended on her hamlet, the ancient spirit had managed to regain some of her former glory. The growing terror of England's children had an unexpected and welcome side effect in the diminishing belief in the benevolent spirits. Adolescents as young as ten years of age had full faith in her ability to devour them whole but doubted the existence of Santa Claus and were assured that the Tooth Fairy was no more than a fantasy.

With news spreading of her nightly feasts, the nightmare king arrived to exploit the bad dreams the populace was sure to be having. His defeat at the hands of the Guardians rankled even then. Annis had capitalized on his deeply held conviction that their continued existence was reliant on the positive influences in a child's life. Explaining to him that he did not need to limit himself to corrupting the dreams of the youth, she had used the horrors he introduced into the slumber of the British populace to spread word of her own evil.

Children had clung desperately to the good dreams they did have. When Christmas came, they cheered. When they would find a quarter where they had left a tooth, they were certain their belief was justified. When the eggs were hidden and ready on Easter Sunday, they believed in the Easter Bunny.

But when Annis finally extended winter past the first few days of May and on into June, with their nightmares increasing in frequency, the children began to doubt. When the weather continued to get colder, they began to fear. When no one came to their aid, they stopped believing.

She had felt the moment that the Guardians arrived in England. Pitch had been in her cave, trying once again to convince her of the validity of some scheme. His blathering had ceased the instant he felt the change, an unholy grin spreading across his face. She was acutely aware of his departure. She was just as cognizant of the wind's motions across the moors. Using her affinity with the force of nature, she guided the wayward spirit into her realm of influence. If she could not turn him to her side, which she doubted would be possible once she had met him, then she would happily use him before discarding the white-haired mischief maker.

A reordering of her agenda was required.

* * *

Pitch had been very surprised when the blade of his scythe connected with Jack's hand. The result of the piercing blow had been incredible, and the dark spirit had enjoyed it thoroughly. Though it was unexpected, the energy flowing into him was not foreign to him. He _had_ often wondered what it would be like to slay a Guardian. When the sand man had been absorbed by the nightmare horses he had unleashed, the victory had been hollow. After feeling the ice wielder's essence flow into him, he had finally understood _why_.

It was intoxicating, siphoning the gifts which had been bestowed on the young spirit. He had assumed that was what had been happening at the time. With the connection severed and the elements remaining wholly unresponsive to his efforts to manipulate them, he realized that something else had been drawn out from the angry warrior that had used a _wall_ to crush an ancient spirit.

A _wall_. The idea of it still shocked him. It was a possibility that would not have occurred to him owing to the amount of overkill involved. He reconsidered the level of malevolence that must exist within the 'good guys' in order to allow them to think of such things. The younger spirit's stance had clearly exposed the fatigue Jack had been feeling after using his gift in such a manner, leading the nightmare king to consider the possibility that using their abilities in dark ways would result in punishment from his old friend in the moon.

Regardless, the heady feeling he had experienced when the tip of his scythe sliced cleanly through the youngest guardian's hand and into his staff had been incredible. He knew he had drawn something from the spirit, but had not been able to determine _what_ precisely it was. His attempts to beckon the wind had fallen on deaf ears. Experiments in calling forth ice had no results. Any time he tried to form a snowball, his face scrunched up in concentration, he was greeted with a handful of air – and an uncanny feeling that a passerby might have mistaken his exertion as constipation.

Failing at every gift he knew had been bestowed upon the winter guardian, he was at a total loss as to what he could possibly have drawn out of the spirit. His feet had wandered as he contemplated. When he finally took stock of his surroundings, he found himself standing outside Annis' bower. Giving a contemptuous snort, he slipped into the shadows he knew so well, entering her abode just as the sun crested over the horizon.

Unsurprisingly, the deformed witch was within. As her eyes fixed on him, he was almost certain that she blamed his inaction for her defeat. When she stood and began to advance, he brandished his scythe.

"You caused that yourself, you know." Her derisive snort filled the cavern. "No, you really did. You played with him too long." Even with only one eye, the witch's glare caused shivers to spread up his spine. "If you had done something about the Bronwen girl..."

She had snarled then, the sound drowning his words. Taking a step towards him, she lashed out with her left arm, her talons slashing at him. He used the handle of his scythe to deflect her blow. Neither paid heed to the blade as he rotated his wrist in an attempt to keep her claws from connecting with his form. The force with which she resisted his defensive endeavor caused his grip on the handle to slip. The scythe's blade fell several inches, the tip connecting with her empty eye socket.

Her hiss of pain quickly turned into a wail of agony as white light spread from the point at which the nightmare king's chosen weapon connected with her form. Trying to throw her head back, uncaring of any scar the blade might etch on her already deformed face, the witch found she was effectively immobilized. With the light's intensity increasing, Pitch released his hold on the scythe entirely as he shielded his eyes with his forearm. When the connection was severed, the echoes of Annis' screams within the cavern died out, only to be replaced by her cackling laughter.

Uncovering his eyes, Pitch found the ancient witch standing with her arms upraised, her head thrown back as her shrill voice filled the air. When her face fell forward, his jaw became slack, dropping open in shock.

There, in the once void depression of her skull, a new eye had formed. Testing out her long-missed binocular vision, Annis called a wind to move rocks about her home. Seeing them on the periphery of her optic range, a malicious smile spread her lips thin, revealing her long teeth.

Her elation was evident when she finally spoke. "I _thought _I needed this."

* * *

_Author's note:_

_**I would like to thank you all for taking the time to read this story**. Less than two weeks on the site and more than a thousand views – I'm truly honored that you chose to spend your time perusing my little tale when there are so many others available._

_Having said that, I must let you all know that – regrettably – I may be unable to update on the sixteenth (tomorrow). I have a procedure scheduled that might prevent it. Everything should be able to resume without difficulties on the seventeenth._


	12. I'm Drunk

_Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians. I make no profit from this work of fiction._

**Many thanks** to Soniclover3 – each favorite and alert is appreciated!

**Special thanks **to Bloody-Rozez, Seryyth and xXxMystical-DreamerxXx – reviews are greatly appreciated!

_A brief note: I did not mean to indicate that Jack's hand was severed in Pitch's attack. Pierced through by the point of the blade of his scythe, yes. Thank you, xXxMystical-DreamerxXx, for making me aware that it was unclear. I will try to make the difference more evident._

For those who like to use Facebook to follow stories:

w-w-w [d-o-t] facebook [d-o-t] c-o-m /pages/RogueMudblood/684906514892205

Questions can be asked there, but I will remove abusive posts. _(Readers in Germany, Austria, and Switzerland will not be able to view the Facebook page. Due to their legal regulations, those countries were excluded from the viewing audience.)_

_Constructive criticism is most welcome – please don't hesitate to tell me what works and what doesn't._

* * *

He felt like he was losing his mind. The last time he had been so perturbed was the day he awoke from the ice. His destiny had been obscured from him then just as it felt his friends were being shrouded from him now. Though it had seemed to him Jamie's lack of faith was the end of the world – or at the very least the end of his world – after his battle with Pitch, he understood there were worse things. One thing Jack was grateful for was the fact that spirits like him could not bleed as mortals did. The nightmare king had not severed his hand. The scythe had left a sizable hole in his appendage where the blade had pierced him, though.

The wound was something that could be looked through. Standing on one side of his palm, the ice and snow accumulated on the ground on the other could clearly be seen through the crater which had been left. It was curiously symbolic, he felt, of the fissure that rent his soul.

His loneliness when he had first awoken from the frozen grave that had claimed his earthly life had nearly consumed him. He kept his fun-loving nature over the years, though. It had been the one thing that had helped him through the desolation which had threatened to consume him in those first few weeks. The first child who had walked through him had left him shocked. Over time, he had found he was able to interact with them, though to a lesser extent than they could with each other. That particular discovery had been the only thing that had kept his spirits aloft.

When he met Bunnymund, he had immediately experienced a euphoria he could not explain. The knowledge that another spirit existed altered his perceptions drastically. Nothing could abate his anger at the man in the moon for refusing to disclose any details regarding his purpose. Becoming aware of a counterpart was more than he could have hoped. Everything changed when the children had run up to the tall hare, their paths often taking them directly through his form. The events of that day had begun a rivalry between the two spirits. Jack had taken great delight in wreaking havoc with the Easter hunt. Many of the children had found the snow and ice an added bonus.

Unfortunately for Jack, the Easter spirit had found the distraction he had provided offensive. While the kids had giggled, occasionally chasing a snowflake the winter spirit would use to guide them to one of the rabbit's hidden treats, the jewels on the lagomorph's arm guards had glinted in the light reflected by the gleaming white snow as he had perched his hands on his hips. Jack remembered that moment with equal measures of fondness and anxiety. Flexing the fingers of his injured hand, the white-haired guardian sighed mournfully.

"What's wrong, Jack?"

Tooth's voice to his left startled him. Jumping with the updraft passing by, he rose into the air. Hearing her hummingbird wings as she hovered alongside him, he exhaled a slow breath. The ice wielder closed his eyes before addressing her.

"Please don't do that."

She chuckled. "Sorry."

He opened his eyes, cerulean blue orbs gazing blindly in the direction of the fairy's voice. A wry smile twisted his lips. "Oh, yes. I can tell you are."

Though he could not see her, the grin on her face was evident in her voice. "You would be sorely disappointed if I didn't have a little _fun_." A short hum was the only response she received. "I don't know what to tell you, Jack." Feeling her hand squeezing his shoulder, he laid his hand on top of hers, patting it gently.

"We do have more important things to worry about just now anyway."

"Da." North's baritone sounded from in front of him. "Chto?" The few moments of silence that followed gave the ice wielder the opportunity to mull over the options available to him. If he traveled with them, he could be a liability. Alternatively, staying behind would leave the witch with the ability to effectively eliminate her opponents by freezing them. While the Russian was accustomed to the frigid weather, he did not want to consider what it would do to either Toothiana or Sandy. A smirk curled his lip as he mused over Bunnymund's reaction.

"Whatever you're thinkin' about, mate, it must be good to bring that look to your face." The Australian drawl sounded as if it were coming from directly in front of him. Landing on the ground pushed the snow between his toes, the feeling of the powdery substance as it melted upon contact with his skin sent a chill up his spine. With his head cocked to one side as his mouth returned to a neutral disposition, he reflected on the reactions Annis had demonstrated to the sensation of the snow and ice. His ruminations were interrupted by North's booming laugh.

"Of course, Sandy!" The large hand clapping him on the back sent him stumbling forward a bit. "Oh, sorry, Jack. But, we have a plan. We go after the evil witch."

"Okay... And when you find her?"

"What do you mean?"

The winter guardian crossed his arms over his chest, tilting his head back to stare up in the direction of North's voice. "What do you plan to do when you get to her? We can fight her, we may even be able to defeat her. Even if it's permanent, how do we rekindle the children's belief? How do we _thaw_ England?"

Silence greeted him. Straining his ears, he could hear the large rabbit shifting his weight between his feet, the snow crunching underneath the powerful legs. Wings buzzing in the air to his right let him know exactly where Tooth was hovering. Russian mutterings revealed the Christmas spirit's location. No matter how closely he listened, though, he could not seem to find the silent sandman. After minutes of tense quiet, a shifting sound registered in his ears.

"Someone tell me what Sandy said." Jack's quiet voice had the tall hare turning his head sharply to regard the other guardian. The fluttering of the fairy's wings ceased as she landed, the snow crunching heavily even under her dainty weight.

"How do you know he said anything?" Bunny waved his right paw in front of the winter spirit's face as he asked.

Hearing the whirring of the air in front of him being displaced, the ice wielder smirked as he raised his staff to connect with the oscillating limb. A hiss of pain peppered the air as the nearly frozen wood connected with its intended target. "The same way I heard that – his sand moved."

"He only shrugged, mate. An' watch that bean pole, will ya?" The lagomorph rubbed his wrist continuously as he spoke, a grimace the winter spirit could not see twisting his lips.

A brief grin alighted Jack's face, fading almost as quickly as it had arrived. "Well, why don't I tell you what I've learned so far."

* * *

When he had felt the guardian's energy flowing into him, he certainly had not envisioned this outcome. Ensconced in the shadows, Pitch sulked about losing the power that filled him with such intensity for so short a time. Watching the organ form in the empty depression of the evil spirit's skull had been a sickening and singularly frightening experience. After his own Nightmares turned on him, he had never expected to be afraid again. Living through the horrors they visited upon him as only a spirit could, Pitch had known only terror for several months after his defeat at the hands of the Guardians.

Despite the horror that even the memory of that time invoked in him, the nightmare king had eventually overcome the panic that even seeing the shadows had begun to incite. He had been elated when he could once more slip into the darkness without his own trepidation overwhelming him. Skulking about through the shadows and seeing the fear that passed over the faces of children throughout the world at the mention of his name even after the events in Burgess empowered him once more.

Molding that fear as much as he could without calling down his nemeses became his goal. Feeding on the terror he could invoke in various individuals over time rather than trying to cause everyone nothing but misery all at once strengthened him. He found the experience exhilarating. Yet even the energy that flowed freely into him from so many sources at once had not compared to the vitalizing sensation of drawing out Jack's essence.

Pitch was unsure if the transfer had happened just because he had pierced his enemy's hand, or as a result of his scythe connecting with Jack's staff. Regardless, the dissolution of that stored energy into the witch Annis was not an event he had desired. Using his affinity with the shadows, he had easily left her cavern – and her gleeful cackles – behind.

Walking through the streets in broad daylight was unusual for him. Even traipsing in the shadows, the youngest inhabitants of the village could make out his silhouette. The youngest ones would cling closer to their parents. Older children would move further from the overhangs under which they tended to walk for the shelter provided from the winter weather. A malicious grin made its home on his face as they shied away from him more frequently. With each one that moved from his path, he stood taller, his strides growing more confident.

Perhaps it was their debilitating fear of Annis which caused them to be able to see him more clearly than they had since those glorious dark ages for which he yearned. Whatever the cause, he reveled in the rapturous feeling. A pale imitation of the euphoria he had felt when Jack's power coursed through him, the sensation was still heady. Unfortunately for the nightmare king, it only lasted until sunset as with the evil spirit's arrival, their fear found another focus which consumed it entirely.

"Ah, it makes such a glorious difference."

"Oh?" Pitch crossed his arms over his chest as he regarded her. His tone dripped with disdain.

Her eyes narrowed as she turned to him. "Don't be such a spoilsport. It's better I took this than your existence – which was what I had been aiming for."

Pitch's eyes widened briefly before he snorted in derision. "As I once told Jack Frost, fear cannot be killed."

Annis' dark chuckle echoed in the empty street. "It's not fear I meant to eviscerate with my talons." She walked away from him then, effectively dismissing him as a lesser being. His eyes narrowed as he watched her departure.

"You should take greater care, witch. You've apparently forgotten that I _do_ know what will end you." His angry words passed unheard into the night air.

* * *

The white-haired winter spirit had spoken of the evil phantom seeking to conquer the English well after the sun had set. His inability to see the places his feet traveled did not stop the mischief maker from pacing. The affinity he had long held with the wind allowed him to stay aloft, hovering above any obstacles over which he might have stumbled. Even the twirling of his staff as he passed it between his hands was sure and unhindered.

Bunnymund watched him with a wistful smile. Whether the fun-loving guardian realized that he had eliminated the handicap with which he had been left was irrelevant. The simple fact was that Jack quickly conquered the impairment with which Pitch had saddled him. Knowing that his compatriot was so resilient was different from actually seeing his ability to overcome the difficulty. Even when he had doubted his own conviction after seeing the despondency which permeated his friend's very being when Jamie could no longer see them, he had held out hope that he was wrong when he had uttered the hurtful words Jack had seen fit to hurl back at him upon their arrival in England. Watching the winter spirit as he relayed what he had been able to learn so far, he recognized the truth of his confidence.

Winding down from his revelations, the youngest guardian let the wind set him down on the snow-covered ground. Drawing the cooler elements into himself, Jack sat on the patch of grass he had cleared, crossing his legs as he waited for the others to provide any input. Toothiana's jaw fell open in astonishment at altered application of his abilities.

"Bozhe moi! How long have you been able to do that, Jack?"

"Hm?" The youngest guardian seemed genuinely surprised by the Russian's query. "Do what?"

Hopping gently over to the mischievous spirit, the lagomorph leaned in as he posed his query. "Jack, what do you feel underneath you right now?"

"Grass. Why... Oh." The white-haired spirit blushed a bit, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. "I didn't actually know I could do that until Conall was about to slip on the ice. At the time, it was the only thing I could think of to keep him from falling." His unseeing eyes looked up at them. "He looked at me with such wonder when I did that, and then such anger the next day when I froze the axe."

Though his cerulean blue eyes could no longer behold the faces of his friends, the winter spirit was able to sense the kindness in Bunnymund's touch as the hare reached over to pat his knee.

"He explained that, mate. The boy didn't understand what he saw and made an assumption."

"Oh." The single word was accompanied by a small smile before the mischief maker's brow furrowed. "Wait. You met him?"

Out of habit, Tooth nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, yes! And his brother Piers. You really made an impression on them." Jack cringed slightly. "No, no. It was a _good_ impression!"

"Da. They wouldn't even tell us anything about where you could have gone. They wanted to protect you."

A goofy grin spread across the youngest spirit's face. "Really?"

Though he could no longer see Sandy's shape speech, he could hear the sand as it rapidly shifted, indicating the ancient spirit was attempting to retell the entire event. As the rabbit to his left cleared his throat, the sound halted.

"He doesn't need to know any of that right now." Hearing the discomfiture in the furry guardian's voice, Jack's grin became playful.

"Something you wanna tell me there, Kangaroo?"

The aggravated huff expelled from the tall hare only served to widen his smile.

"Yeah, Frosty."

Jack frowned. He might make snow, and he might even help kids build snowmen, but he had never appreciated the appellation comparing him with the television icon. His tone became slightly surly as he responded. "Well?"

Allowing an impish smile to alight his face, Bunnymund managed to keep his tone somewhat serious as he replied. "As the Americans say, I'm drunk."


	13. Hurt You

_Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians. I make no profit from this work of fiction._

**Special thanks **to Bloody-Rozez, Seryyth and snowing-in-the-spring-time – reviews are greatly appreciated!

_Bloody-Rozez, brilliant queries! I have a plan for Jack's eyesight, fear not. I can't answer your other concerns without providing spoilers for future chapters. I still have a ways to go before revealing those details. _;)

_Seryyth, I hope I can continue to entertain you. _:)

_snowing-in-the-spring-time, the ending was only meant to portray Bunny pestering Jack. A bit of normalcy and humor in a situation that's anything but. I didn't intend for it be confusing, but thank you for letting me know that the message I meant to convey was unclear. I welcome such constructive criticism as it helps me to know where and how I can improve._

For those who like to use Facebook to follow stories:

w-w-w [d-o-t] facebook [d-o-t] c-o-m /pages/RogueMudblood/684906514892205

Questions can be asked there, but I will remove abusive posts. _(Readers in Germany, Austria, and Switzerland will not be able to view the Facebook page. Due to their legal regulations, those countries were excluded from the viewing audience.)_

_Constructive criticism is most welcome – please don't hesitate to tell me what works and what doesn't._

* * *

Her mad cackles echoed through the empty streets, reverberating from the rooftops and vibrating the foundations of the homes she would have loved to enter. Reveling in the terror she could feel flowing from the inhabitants of the houses as she passed by, she was still unable to erase the memory of her failures that evening.

Annis had been half blind for nearly a thousand years. The unfortunate result of that particular handicap was the loss of binocular vision. Having her depth perception returned to her so suddenly caused her some unexpected difficulty. She had, of course, assumed that she would be able to simply resume the fear-filled reign she had enjoyed for a long time. Finding that her returned vision would not be the boon she expected was less than fortuitous.

When she had reached her arm out to bring the first child she encountered towards her, her hand had only made contact with empty air. Her snarls had started as a soft rumble, only increasing in volume as the boy whose soul she had meant to consume overcame the debilitating panic that had overwhelmed him. As he had scrambled back from her, feet slipping on the ice-covered street, his yells for help had gained the attention of the inhabitants of nearby brownstones. She had slipped back into the shadows then, watching him run to safety with a sneer twisting her face.

The second attempt of the evening had been slightly more successful. Yellow braids had peeked out from the bottom of the knitted winter beanie covering the young girl's head. The ghastly smile that had slowly spread the witch's lips thin over her sharp teeth had quickly faded when the clawed hand she extended had only snagged in the girl's clothing. Shredded cloth clutched in her palm as her talons had closed into a fist clacking loudly against each other was all she had pulled away. The evil spirit had growled as the girl had run. Echoing footfalls as the child's sneakers had pounded against the pavement were the only sounds that had greeted Annis' ears other than her own displeasure.

Holding the tattered cloth had given the witch an idea for resolving the problem. Two of the strips were long enough to be tied together and then fastened around her head. A malicious grin once again alighting her face, she had simply manufactured an eye patch. The third child whose path she had crossed had no prayer of surviving. With her vision once more limited, she had easily been able to snatch the child to her. No amount of squirming had been able to break her grip. Relishing the tears that had streamed down the child's face, she had taken care to slowly draw out the mortal essence on which she survived. Once the body had been completely drained, she had dropped the empty shell, heedless of the sound of the bones cracking as they had connected with the underlying pavement.

She had ripped the cloth from her head. Her vision whole once more, she had left the scene, the wind she summoned carrying her to the next village. These children wandering so freely had not yet been told to fear her, or had not believed. The witch vowed to eat well, the gust bearing her further from her accepted sphere of influence providing her the exact opportunity to do so.

* * *

Toothiana giggled at the pooka's antics as he continued to goad the winter spirit. As the guardian of fun, Jack's ability to draw out the mischief in others was unparalleled. To his credit, the youngest guardian accepted the ribbing good-naturedly. He certainly did not allow his visual impairment to hinder him, using the sound of the rabbit's Australian drawl to aim several snowballs in his direction. The sound of the tightly packed powdery substance impacting with the fur covering his friend's arm brought a smile to the white-haired spirit's face.

"Cold, cold, cold!" The quiet mutterings were punctuated by the sound of North's booming laughter as Bunnymund worked to brush the moist matter from his coat before it could melt and seep into the skin underneath. Smirking, Jack chuckled, a breeze ruffling his hair as it passed by seeming to agree with his mirth. Their antics were prematurely ended when the sound of dream sand shifting noisily.

"Sandy?" Hummingbird wings buzzed rapidly, the sound not quite able to cover the gasp that followed the tentative query the fairy had voiced. "Oh, no!"

"What is it, sheila?" The lagomorph lumbered over to the pair, the sound of the snow crunching under the pads of his paws tickling Jack's ears. He exhaled in a whistle, the low tone sending shivers up the mischief maker's spine. "Strewth, mate! How'd that happen?"

Frustrated by not being able to see what the others were obviously staring at, the youngest guardian frowned as he carded a hand through his pale hair. Palm resting on the back of his neck as he massaged the tension building there, waiting on an exclamation from North before demanding an explanation. After several moments of silence, any semblance of patience abandoned him.

"What's happened?"

The heavy crunch of the ground under booted feet alerted him to the Russian's approach. Tilting his head back, he let the hand which had been lingering against his cool skin drop to join the wounded appendage resting on his staff. Angling his head upward, the winter spirit waited with anxious anticipation, entirely unsure whether he truly wanted to know what could rile his four compatriots so quickly. Several seconds of silence passed before the jolly giant revealed what he knew.

"When we were looking for you, we managed to make a map of the area that had been affected by the weather changes." Jack nodded, his brow furrowing slightly as he considered the implications. "The area where the cold has taken root has grown. It covers nearly twice the area it did." Pulling his staff close to him, the younger spirited rested his head on the shepherd's crook. "Her power is growing." The ominous statement lingered in the air, the group understandably troubled by the revelation.

Uninterrupted silence consumed them for several minutes before the white-haired guardian spoke. "You made a map from dream sand."

A smile erupted on North's face as the Christmas spirit clapped him on the back. "Da, we did."

Hearing the shifting of sand, the winter spirit smiled. "Sandy, whatever you're trying to tell me is certain to be an adventure I'll be sorry I missed." More shuffling sounds reached his ears as the small earthen granules were displaced. A smile quirking his lips, Jack merely shook his head as the noise continued unabated. Even as the group began chuckling, the movement of the tiny particles remained.

Quietly calling the wind to his side, he perched himself on the passing breeze, letting it float him over to the ancient spirit. Seemingly oblivious to the mischievous guardian's roost over his shoulder, Sandy continued with the rapidly changing images that relayed the tales of their exploits. The gentle tap he applied to the slumber guardian's shoulder had the others laughing raucously. Startling the dream weaver had caused the pictures he had been forming to explode, the dream sand flying outward in every direction.

Jack coughed and spluttered as he attempted to expel the dust from his lungs. The group calm once more, a serious demeanor settled over them. "I don't know exactly where her home is. She travels with the wind just as easily as I do. So our best option of finding her is going to be in the area she seems to be expanding into."

"Right, mate." Thumping the ground, the pooka created a tunnel for transport. "Get a good hold him then, sheila."

The winter spirit's brow furrowed in confusion before a shocked shout erupted from him. He felt Toothiana's small hands firmly gripping his upper arms as she pulled him to her. He could virtually taste the wind rushing past his face as she flew them quickly through the earthen passage. Once more above ground, relief flooded the youngest guardian as the dainty fingers hiding a surprisingly strong grasp release their hold. Asking the wind to keep him aloft, he hovered as the others arrived, listening for any indication their quarry might be nearby.

Though the sound was more sporadic than it should have been this time of year, Jack could clearly make out the noise of living insects. Unfamiliar with the night time inhabitants of Britain's bug population, he could not identify the culprit. He was acutely aware that it was an audible phenomenon that had been absent everywhere else he had recently traveled in the country. His ears having been straining to focus on the light pecking the creature was making, the white-haired guardian jumped when North muttered in shock several feet from him.

"What is it? What do you see?"

Looking around the dale where they had emerged, the other four were able to clearly make out the dying forest around them. The cold had spread so quickly that it caused devastation to the local plant life. Trees that had withstood seasonal changes for hundreds of years were unable to survive the onslaught of icy weather that had so quickly attacked them. Many aged trunks lay fallen on the ground, the thick trunks having been bored through. Piles of coarse dust covered the logs, tracked along by slimy white larvae before they burrowed deeper into crevices along the decaying lumber.

Lip curled with disgust, Bunnymund really did not want to describe the insects responsible for the racket he was certain that his blind companion could clearly hear. The sad fact that he was likely the only one of them who recognized the tunneling critters did not escape him. Even so, he omitted their existence from his description of the scene that lay before them. The silence hanging in the air when he finished his exposition on the forest whose trees were slowly being devoured by destructive bugs was disquieting. He had not spared the minutia regarding the frozen aspect of the ground, nor had he failed to mention the plethora of fallen oaks whose trunks lay dead or dying along the once fertile forest floor. Despite his best efforts though, the question could not be eternally delayed.

"So what's making the noise?"

A moue of distaste pursed the tall rabbit's lips as he hesitated. The mischief maker refused to be put off, going so far as to ask the breeze on which he was poised to float him directly over the hare's head. Rubbing the fur on his ears in the wrong direction caused the organs to twitch. When the lagomorph had finally reached his limit he smacked the youngest guardian's hand away.

"Deathwatch beetles. I've always avoided hiding anything near oak or chestnut at Easter because of them."

The name alone was enough to create pause among the five spirits, well aware of the deadly impulses of the witch they aimed to stop.

Pitch had not expected to see them again so soon after their last encounter. He had managed to keep himself from their sight. He was certain that Jack had stared directly at him, those cerulean blue eyes fixed on his position. The winter spirit said nothing to reveal him, though, which had peaked his curiosity enough that he had stayed. Enduring the ridiculous attempt the rabbit had made to avoid talking about the insects had tested his patience, but the question nagging him of why it should need to be described when the ice wielder could very well make note of the unnatural devastation for himself helped him to keep his presence hidden.

Drawing his shadows about him, he moved from the trunk against which he had been leaning when the hare finally revealed the names of the insects boring holes so close to his head. Despite the fact that they could not harm a spirit, he had no desire to be any closer to the vile things than the five spirits he was attempting to avoid.

Being held aloft on the wind, Jack had the best chance of detecting him. Yet even though that gaze swung in his direction several times, not once did the youngest spirit reveal him. Calling his Nightmares to him quietly, he waited until several of the gruesome looking horses were standing by his side before emerging from the shadows which had kept him so well cloaked.

"Well, well. Trying to learn a bit about the local shrubbery? I wasn't aware that you taught dendrology, mongrel." A boomerang whirred past his head, decapitating one of his Nightmares. He ducked as it passed back by, its return route taking it directly where his head had been. Narrowing his eyes as he stood back up, Pitch flicked unseen dust from his sleeve. "That was hardly hospitable."

"Wasn't supposed to be." The growling tone that colored the pooka's response could not be mistaken for anything less than a threat.

"Oh, now, don't be upset that I'm here. After all, I was here _first_." The dark horses left his side, heading directly for the gathered spirits. Sandy's eyebrow raised slightly as he regarded the one running towards him. He had barely formed the blade of dream sand before the glittering golden substance sliced cleanly through the body of the stallion. The black dust that had comprised the malevolent being immediately began changing, taking on its original golden hue.

Drawing his cossack sabres, North sliced through the underbelly of the dark horse that had been headed for Jack. The shashka piercing cleanly upwards, he drew the blade down the length of the sinister creature, a wide gash forming from behind its neck down to its tail visible for only a moment before it dissolved.

Though Tooth's attack was less vicious in nature, she was no less effective. Well-placed punches from her strong arms forced the wicked animals into the rebound of Bunnymund's hurled weapons. Indirectly responsible for their ultimate destruction, she felt no guilt at using her comrade's long range prowess to her own advantage.

The small number of the malicious equine beasts resulted in a very short altercation. Panting from the exertion of alternately tossing and catching his boomerangs as he had aimed to decapitate as many of the creatures as possible before the horses could reach the ice wielder for whom the majority had been headed, the angry pooka narrowed his eyes at their dark nemesis.

"Now, now. You've had your fun." Staring at his nails, Pitch made certain that the tall rabbit understood that he did not feel the least bit in danger from the display. "What I have to wonder is why exactly you all gathered around dear Jack so protectively." Taking stock of their positions, the group realized that – without consciously making the decision – they had affected a barrier separating their most vulnerable member from the danger which had threatened them. "I thought briefly it was my own worried mind playing tricks on me when he looked in my direction but said nothing. Then I realized he did exactly that. But why would Jack Frost protect _me_ of all beings?"

"He wouldn't, you dunny. You got a kangaroo loose in your paddock?" The generally pleasant drawl was filled with venom as the Australian glared at their nemesis.

"My, my. Aren't you pleasant today? You sound like you don't like me very much."

"Don't like ya? Mate, right now, I want to hurt you."


	14. Awake and Breathing

_Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians. I make no profit from this work of fiction._

**Special thanks **to Bloody-Rozez, Seryyth, and snowing-in-the-spring-time – reviews are greatly appreciated!

_Bloody-Rozez – That made me laugh. :) That is certainly an interesting coincidence. And I do hope the battle sequences live up to expectations!_

_Seryyth – Thanks! I aim to please. ;)_

_snowing-in-the-spring-time – I'm glad I'm succeeding with the accent. :) I'm trying not to go overboard with Bunny and North, not just with the accents, but also when including slang that would be a part of their speech._

For those who like to use Facebook to follow stories:

w-w-w [d-o-t] facebook [d-o-t] c-o-m /pages/RogueMudblood/684906514892205

Questions can be asked there, but I will remove abusive posts. _(Readers in Germany, Austria, and Switzerland will not be able to view the Facebook page. Due to their legal regulations, those countries were excluded from the viewing audience.)_

_Constructive criticism is most welcome – please don't hesitate to tell me what works and what doesn't._

* * *

If Pitch had been irritated by the rapid defeat of his Nightmares, he was nothing short of livid by continuing to receive threats. His eyes became slits in response to the rabbit's unrelenting menace. The promise of harm did not hold the same hazard for a spirit as a mortal. One thing he did know was that his energy could be drawn out of him. He doubted any of the Guardians would be able to summon enough willful malice to damage him in the way he had Jack.

Though he had been unable to discover what precisely he had drawn from the ice wielder when it was taken from him in Annis' bower, the evil spirit could easily determine it after observing them. When his scythe had returned the witch's eyesight, he had felt the energy flow out of him. It had been a disappointing sensation, one which he had no desire to repeat. Seeing the winter guardian surrounded by his comrades in such a protective manner confirmed his suspicions about just what he had stolen from the mischief maker.

"I wonder." His drawl sounded from several directions at once as he drew the shadows up to cover his form. Despite not thinking that any one of them had the will to destroy his existence, being outnumbered made him prudent. Watching them turn about as they tried to locate him was certainly an entertaining past time. His amusement was cut short by the intervention of the blind guardian.

"Enough!" Jack's voice carried over the wind that had begun blowing as he raised his staff. White hair ruffled by the gusts of wind swirling the snow about them, anger constricted the skin surrounding his unseeing eyes. The shepherd's crook glowed brightly, the eerie cyan light lending a creepy blue hue to the white powder surrounding the group. Lowering his arm swiftly, the butt of the ice wielder's wooden weapon slammed into the frozen earth, displacing the snow. The wave from the point of contact rolled outward, the snow seemingly being pushed out by the cracks shattering the underlying ice.

Toothiana hovered above the group, her hummingbird wings buzzing rapidly as she focused her eyes on the spot where the shadows seemed to retreat into the trees. Their rapid withdrawal revealed the nightmare king as the vibrations from the force of Jack's blow knocked him from his feet. A glittering golden rope attached itself to his ankle, dragging him towards the group. Dissolving once he was deposited at their feet, the evil spirit growled as he tried to rise from the ground only to find North's sabre poised under his chin. The light of terror shone in his eyes for a brief moment as he felt the sharpness of the ethereal blade. Focusing once more on the youngest guardian, he pushed his own trepidation from his mind.

"It's so much easier, isn't it, Jack, when you don't know what it's like for them to stop believing." The anger that had twisted the ice wielder's face so grotesquely quickly dissipated, leaving doubt in its place. "It's so much simpler when you don't have to fight to keep them convinced you're real." His eyes flashed with triumph as the staff lowered, the crook nearly falling to the ground. "Think about it, Jack. They don't believe in you because you're a guardian." Pushing himself back slowly from the cossack sword, the dark spirit edged away from the group. He watched them closely, noting the Russian's attention being diverted to the pained look covering his comrade's face.

"They believe in you right now because it's still winter. What was it the boys called you again? Ice King?" The youngest guardian's face was hidden from him, the shadows cast from the light emanating from the still glowing staff enough to camouflage his features. "Why do you think they're so willing to believe in you _now_ when they didn't for three _centuries_?" Digging his fingers into the powdery snow, he pulled himself back a bit more. His eyes were fixed on Bunnymund's face, noting the hare's increased despair as a furred paw landed lightly on the hunched shoulders. Even the fairy's wings slowed as his words seemed to affect the youngest of their group.

"Jamie grew up, Jack. All children do. And when they do, they _stop believing_. It will always be like this." The blade that had threatened him slipped down a bit, the distance the final element he needed to extricate himself from the precarious position in which he had found himself. Standing once more, he dusted the rapidly melting snow from his black garment. Taking gentle steps backward, he moved slowly in an attempt to avoid catching their attention.

"Children only believe in you now because of _her_, Jack."

Without looking up, the ice wielder swung the staff in an arc so that the crook once more pointed towards the sky. As the end struck the ground sharply once again, Pitch tumbled back into the snow, his foot having been raised when the shockwave of energy spread from the nexus of the white haired spirit's attack. Lifting his head as he started to rise once more, he found his progress impeded by the hook of Jack's staff.

His gaze following the line along the shaft of the winter spirit's weapon, the evil spirit found himself staring into the darkest visage he could recall since Sanderson had humiliated him in Burgess those many years before. The habitually mischievous eyes glowed with unparalleled anger as they glared down at him. It appeared that despite his attempts to undermine any conviction that may have been rekindled by his recent battle with Annis, Pitch had failed miserably in the endeavor to sway the young spirit.

"Despite whatever you may say, the fact remains that they _do_ believe."

"They won't always."

"Maybe not. Right now, that's not what's important."

Tilting his head to one side, Pitch narrowed his eyes at the unseeing orbs staring down so maliciously. "And just why isn't it, Jack?"

"If the only reason they believe in me is because they feel threatened, then the _best_ thing I can do for them is to take away that threat." Leaning down, the ice wielder allowed his pale locks to fall into his eyes, the shadows they created in the glow from the shepherd's crook giving him a more menacing appearance than the king of nightmares had thought was possible for such a fun-loving individual. Using the sound of Pitch's labored breathing in order to slide the curve of the staff under the dark being's chin, the youngest guardian lifted the elder spirit's chin at a painful angle. "Give me back my eyesight, Pitch."

"I would, if I could." His voice was strained as the weapon pushed roughly against his windpipe. "But someone else is using it just now." Faded golden eyes tinged in shadowy silver became impossibly large at the sound of the growl to his right. Large three-toed paws displaced the powdery snow that had fallen to the ground. Leather bands wrapped tightly about the feet darkened as the precipitation melted and soaked into them. The cold flat wood of the boomerang against his face forced his head to turn to the side.

"Who?"

Glancing about at the dark gazes fixed on him, the nightmare king had the distinct impression that hedging was not his best option. Locking his eyes with the narrowed golden orbs glittering threateningly at him, his voice was a mere whisper of breath when he responded.

"Annis."

* * *

Her hunger had finally abated after the fifth child whose eyes she had watched empty of all emotion. She nearly felt gorged on the essences of so many mortals after having been famished for so many years. Even when she had felt the final barrier to her freedom fade just as the spring had begun to heat in preparation for summer, when she had emerged from her bower for the first time after Easter Monday had passed, she had never considered that she might be able to feel sated.

As dawn approached, she called the wind to her. For the first time since her egress from the cavern she had known as home for hundreds of years, the cave she had carved from the rock with her own talons, the breeze was sluggish to respond to her summons. Though it did eventually acknowledge her beckoning, she wondered at the delay. Any concern about the lack of reaction abandoned her as she realized she may have waited too long to venture back to her home. The gust that wrapped about her allayed her fears as it swiftly bore her to the only shelter she had accepted as her abode.

Nearing the hillside that heralded her arrival, the wind deposited her gently on the icy ground, taking its leave of her swiftly. Her surprise at finding that the darkened area was not void of mortals manifested itself in a cackle that reverberated from the rocky crags of the land. She relished their quickened breathing, distinctly visible in the cold as the hot exhalations became refrigerated in the icy air. The two boys glanced up from where they had been poking about. She presumed they were trying to find the entrance to her cave, something no mortal child had ever attempted.

"What is it you call this? When the food comes to you?" Her vocal musings caused the two boys to shudder, the scent of their trepidation wafting to her on the slight breeze blowing over the landscape. "Oh, yes." She leaned forward as she reached the edge of the river bank under which they had tried to hide themselves when they had heard her approaching. "Delivery."

Her wrinkled hand darted forward from the rock on which she had placed it, claws snagging the shirt of the closest child. A smile alighted her face as she recognized her luck in grabbing the younger of the two first. High-pitched laughter filled the air, her joy in the child's fear causing her to be less closeted than she normally constrained herself to be.

"Conall!"

The other boy was attempting to climb to the top of the outcropping, the jagged edges of the rocks cutting into his hands. Smelling his blood peppering the atmosphere, she closed her eyes in anticipation. Slitting them open, she began to siphon the soul from the boy in her grasp, her nearly intoxicated state evident in the sluggish pull of his essence into her mouth.

"Leave him be, you witch!"

Her chuckles in response to the other boy's angry shouts were cut short by the blow which struck her skull. Dropping the child whose soul she had not been able to finish consuming, his body tumbled down to the river. The ice covering the waterway would certainly break his fall. She mused that she would be able to find him when she had finished with the pesty older boy who insisted on monopolizing her attention. Turning to face the source of the attack, she was surprised to find herself staring at the glittering golden form of the sand man.

Her lip curled upward in a snarl as she launched herself at him, her anger overrode her better judgment. Blowing a fistful of dream sand in her face, Sandy had assumed that she would be rendered unconscious. Even the Guardians themselves were susceptible to his abilities. His surprise when she continued to charge him through the dust cloud was palpable.

"It takes more than that, you old goat!" Annis' claws would have connected with his body if the dream weaver were not composed of sand. His brow furrowed in confusion, he backed away from her quickly.

The twinkling spirit was not the only one shocked by developments in the evil witch's presence. Jack had not noticed immediately, as when they had emerged from the magical portal North had opened from the location Pitch had been willing to share to prevent any permanent damage to his being, his vision had still been absent. The moment her hand had released its grip on the child, however, smoky images began to swim in front of him. Blinking reflexively, he hoped to clear the murky quality, but the action was ineffective.

The other boy's scream caught his attention, and he sailed over to his side. The wind, for once, appeared to be a physical entity to him. For the first time in the centuries that he had been hitching rides with the element, he could actually _see _the updrafts. Using them to make his way rapidly to the boy, Jack did not even have time to ask him the reason for him fear. When he had seen the ice wielder approaching, the boy had extended his arm, pointing in the direction of the falling body.

Following the downdrafts, the youngest guardian soared towards the younger boy. His rapid descent allowed him to catch up to the child. Knowing they were too close to the river's surface to stop their freefall, the ice wielder concentrated his energy, making a hole in the solid sheet of frozen precipitation directly beneath the boy. Plunging into the stagnant river, the young form displaced the chill liquid. The frigid water hardened as it splashed up and connected with the remaining glacial layer from which he had drawn the winter energy into himself.

Chasing the body into the ice-cold canal, Jack dove beneath the surface, swimming downward until the hook of his staff was able to cleanly capture the unconscious boy. He made his way back to the hole which was quickly attempting to seal itself over in the wintry weather. Breaking the river's surface, the white haired spirit hauled the child from the water, using the wind to deposit them both some distance from the altercation with Annis that remained in progress as he rolled the boy to his side. Finally able to see the child's face, murky as it was, the guardian gasped in surprise.

"Conall!" His breathy statement of the boy's identity was overridden by the shout from the other child. Glancing up, the ice wielder was barely able to make out the short form headed towards him before his vision faded completely. Closing his eyes tightly, he fought back the tears that were attempting to push past his lashes. Hearing the footfalls rushing towards him, Jack moved away from the wet child, allowing the others to approach the seemingly asleep form.

The fur that brushed past his arm let him know precisely who had been closest to the pair when they had emerged from the frozen water. Hearing the squish as Conall's soaked clothing connected with the lagomorph's fur, Jack was not entirely focused on the thump of the rabbit's foot as he created a tunnel.

"Piers, grab the ice king, will ya?" He could hear the smirk in Bunnymund's voice even as he felt the small hand slip into his chilled one.

"Go on! We will meet you there!" The Russian accent carried on the wind was all the impetus the fur-covered guardian needed before jumping into the earthen channel. The journey was swift, their arrival on the other side landing them in the boys' back yard. Frightened for the young form in his arms, the pooka ordered the older boy to run for help. Moments later, the heavy thump of older feet alerted the two guardians to the approach of an adult. Stepping back from the nearly frozen form, the hare wrapped an arm around the youngest guardian's shoulders, watching as the boys' mother attempted to revive her child.

The sound of the magical portal opening behind them drew their attention from the woman's actions. "Sandy! What happened?" Jack could clearly hear the sounds of the shifting sand. Not waiting for the dream weaver to finish, his voice was barely a whisper as he drew his arms about himself.

"She got away."

Tooth squealed, her hummingbird wings buzzing loudly behind the ice wielder as she landed. "You could see that?!"

Shaking his head sadly, the ice wielder let the tears finally drop from his eyes. "No."

"Oh."

Bunnymund drew his companion to him. "It's a'right, mate."

"You don't understand." Muffled as his voice was by the fur in which his face was buried, he was still comprehensible. "When I was there... When _she_ was there... I could see."

Before the group could respond to the revelation, coughs and wheezes peppered the air, interspersed with the sounds of vomiting as water was expunged from the young lungs which had breathed it in. His organs emptied of the frigid liquid, Conall fell back against the grass. Piers landed roughly on his knees beside the younger boy.

"Thank god."

A weak smile graced his lips as Conall fought to open his eyes. "Hey, you know something?"

"No, what?" Piers had to lean in close to his brother's mouth in order to hear the brief comments he made.

"I'm awake."

Not caring that he was supposed to be tough, the older boy let tears stream down his face as he smiled at his sibling. "And you're breathing."


	15. Desperation

_Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians. I make no profit from this work of fiction._

**Many thanks** to YuiSoraShi – each favorite and alert is appreciated!

**Special thanks **to Bloody-Rozez, Seryyth and snowing-in-the-spring-time – reviews are greatly appreciated!

_Bloody-Rozez – Ack! Thank you for pointing out my misplaced antecedent. I changed the first "he" in the paragraph following the scene between Sandy and Annis, so hopefully that clears it up. I'm glad it was enjoyable nonetheless. :) Best not to make your dad think you've lost the plot too much, though. ;)_

_Seryyth – too true!_

_snowing-in-the-spring-time – I shall certainly endeavor to so do. :)_

For those who like to use Facebook to follow stories:

w-w-w [d-o-t] facebook [d-o-t] c-o-m /pages/RogueMudblood/684906514892205

Questions can be asked there, but I will remove abusive posts. _(Readers in Germany, Austria, and Switzerland will not be able to view the Facebook page. Due to their legal regulations, those countries were excluded from the viewing audience.)_

_Constructive criticism is most welcome – please don't hesitate to tell me what works and what doesn't._

* * *

Conall had been rushed away in an ambulance, his mother riding alongside as Piers stayed with his grandmother. The older brother had been surprised when the East Midlands emergency personnel had shown up, but grateful nonetheless. His younger sibling was breathing once more, his mother's efforts successful. The water had been _so cold_ though. Even the little amount that had splashed on him from Conall's clothes had made him shiver. Biting his lower lip as he watched the ambulance drive off, Piers prayed for the first time since his mother had left the Anglican church so many years prior.

Mouthing the 'amen' he turned to look about, finding only four of the spirits in proximity to him. His brow furrowed as he swiveled about in search of the missing member of the group he was certain was responsible for saving both his and his brother's lives. Seeing the ice wielder standing with his face buried in fur of the Easter Bunny caused the young mortal to giggle. The boy's mirth was contagious. As the others chuckled, the rabbit leaned down to whisper in the winter spirit's ear. With his face no longer concealed by the pooka's thick coat, Piers could clearly make out the tear tracks on the white haired guardian's face.

His grandmother knelt down in front of him. "I don't know what you two were doing out an' about before the sun had risen good. An' I don't rightly care either. Your mum will keep you home for a month – the both of you. I've a mind to give you a good wallop for it." Piers swallowed thickly, his eyes widening as he met his grandmother's gaze. "But I know somehow you got your brother back here. An' he's safe – or will be when they finish looking him over. I'll call you in when your mum calls to let me know which infirmary they've taken him to." She stood, leaving him standing in the sun-splashed, snow-covered yard.

Keeping his eyes downcast, Piers approached Jack, placing his small hand in the guardian's open palm. "Thank you." Raising an eyebrow, the youngest guardian knelt down, one knee landing gently in the frigid winter precipitation. He placed a finger under the boy's chin, tilting the young face upward.

"I hear I need to thank _you_."

"Huh?" Piers' forehead was scrunched in confusion.

"Well, I hear you and Conall defended my honor." Though the tear tracks were still visible on his eternally youthful face, Jack managed to give the boy a small grin.

A blush bloomed on Piers' cheeks even as he smiled broadly. "You did save my mum." Nodding, the ice wielder opened his mouth to respond when the noise of buzzing wings reached his ears. He stood, the wooden shepherd's crook clutched tightly in his right hand glowing faintly. "Something bad?" Piers' tone conveyed his worry quite clearly.

"Huh?"

"Your staff is glowing, mate." Bunnymund's voice was soft and void of any rebuke. Swallowing a sigh of frustration, the winter spirit closed his eyes tightly, focusing on drawing the energy back into himself. "Good onya. 'S just Tooth." Nodding once, the white haired guardian resisted the temptation to tell the hare he had been fully aware of her identity. She was, after all, the only being of whom he was aware with wings flapping at a hummingbird's speed large enough to displace the amount of air he felt blowing towards him in gusts.

The crunch of the snow underneath heavy, thick boots gave him enough warning to tense his muscles slightly in expectation of the large hand North clapped onto his shoulder as the Russian stepped forward. "Well, miledi? What news?"

Loose powder swirled into the atmosphere as her dainty feet touched the earth. "They took him to Leicester Royal. He's been admitted, but they think he'll be fine." Bending down, she gave Piers a large grin. "Conall's a fighter."

Jack chuckled. "So's Piers. He has cuts in his hand." Blushing, the boy quickly hid his hands behind his back. Concerned, Sandy quietly slipped behind the boy, verifying the lacerations and nodding to the others. Gently pulling the boy's left hand forward, Bunnymund knelt down, shivering slightly as the snow seeped into his fur.

"What happened?"

"I … She had her claws in his shirt, and she was trying to … So I just climbed up the rocks to get to her." His words were somewhat rushed through the explanation. Intent on extricating his hand from the hare's hold, he did not notice the sound of the approaching footsteps as the soft powder was ground together by his grandmother's shoes. Unable to see the spirits gathered about the still frightened boy, she simply circled around to his front, crouching down unknowingly directly beside the rabbit. Gathering his hand in both her palms, she brought him to her, kissing the skin next to the open wounds.

"It was brave of you to try to face the witch." She sighed heavily. "If they'd never let go of the old ways…."

"Gramma?" Her gentle hum was the only verbal response she gave. "Can we go see Conall now?" Smiling, she nodded.

"First, let's get some bandages on these cuts after we clean them up a bit." Grinning up at her as she ushered him inside, Piers turned back, sparing a gentle grin and a small wave for the spirits standing in his backyard.

* * *

Pitch had been glad when they had released him. Though he was quite sure that none of the Guardians would risk directly harming him, he certainly could not make any such claims regarding Annis' behavior once she learned that he had supplied them with information, no matter how slight. It was of little consequence that they knew where her cave stood. Such was the lie he told himself to excuse working against her.

Regardless of how damaging the information might ultimately prove to be, it was a simple truth that there was nothing the group could do with it at that moment except accept it. They had done more than that, allowing their attentions to be diverted just enough in their surprise at getting _anything _from him that he had been able to swiftly slip into shadows. Ensconced safely in the forest once more, hidden among the dead and dying oaks, he watched them disappear through one of North's despicable magic tunnels. Sneering, he had turned from the emptied clearing, leaving the infernal pests too stubborn to die out to peck at the wood of the fallen trees.

It had not been long before the nightmare king had seen the sun cresting the horizon. The mistake he made then almost cost him more dearly than the pilfered perception of a guardian.

The shadows enfolded him in their embrace, moving him swiftly from the forest at the outermost edge of the area the witch had explored to her cavern. He knew she had fed copiously, so he was unaware of any reason that she should be in such a terrible mood. Watching her from the safe umbrella of darkness he kept about him, he had seen the ancient spirit devour many small children. Their souls appeared to be both morsels for sustenance and an inebriating drink in equal measure. He shuddered slightly at the memories of how she had so callously cast aside their carcasses.

No matter how many nightmares he wished to induce, Pitch had never sought to kill his prey. He would not have been able to survive on their delicious terror had he so done. The manner in which she so viciously threw their vacant forms away from her appalled even him. Realizing his aversion to her methods, Pitch had begun to re-evaluate the necessity of his association with Annis.

His musings on the issue left him in a decidedly rapid rush as her claws closed about his throat when he entered her bower.

"They were here."

Her hiss was more malevolent than he had previously heard her be. Barely audible, the three words and the tone in which they were delivered promised him a great deal of agony if he did not find a means to appease her. Holding up his hands in surrender, he chose not to fight her choke hold in an obvious manner. Tendrils from the shadows in the cavern snaked towards the witch, ready to strike at the whim of their master.

"Does it truly change anything?" Keeping his voice calm was paramount. If she sensed any trepidation from him, she would no doubt capitalize on it, bringing the same method to bear in any future altercations. He had no desire to continue feeling her talons so near. The thought did lend itself to the speculation of what would happen if a spirit of their ages and abilities beheaded the other. Her tightening grip prevented him from exploring the idea fully.

"They know where to _find _me, you imbecile!"

The skin around Pitch's eyes tightened as he narrowed his eyes. "Watch yourself, witch. There's no need to malign my intellect simply because you're affronted."

"Of course I'm 'affronted' – you led them right to me!"

Her wild silver eyes flashed as she allowed her talons to squeeze more tightly. Finally unwilling to allow her to continue in her abuse of his person, the nightmare king wrapped the coils of the poised shadows about her ankles, yanking her backwards so suddenly that her hand fell away from his form. Using the dark shade to maintain a barrier between them, he made his way to the sliver of light slipping through the small crevice in the roof of her cave. Loud growls reached his ears once he stepped into the circle, making certain to use his affinity with the darkness to push its presence entirely from the area. Skin appearing sickly in the bright light surrounding him, he graced her with a toothy, insincere grin as the coils around her body dissipated. She kept her distance from him, malice written into every line of the sneer she displayed on her face.

"It would seem we are at an impasse." She snapped her teeth at him, the sharp fangs clacking together loudly in the shade that hid her. "Despite what you may think, they know nothing more than that you were here. They are unaware that this is your home. Likely they think we have some … connection." His mouth pursed on the word, the disdain with which he pronounced it making his feelings on the matter of being in any way bound with her apparent.

Annis had stopped pacing, her head tilted to the left as she considered his words. They had not attempted to keep her from entering her bower. Jack, glorious winter spirit though he was, had been entirely focused on saving the mortal child whose soul she had failed to snatch. The sandman had honestly believed that she was susceptible to his dream dust. The shock on his face when it was unsuccessful in deterring her attack could not have been fabricated. Mulling over the nightmare king's offered defense, she concluded that – ultimately – no damage had been done other than her meal escaping. Relaxing against the wall, she allowed herself to slip down its smooth surface until she was seated.

Several moments of silence passed before Pitch's curiosity got the better of him. "How ever did you escape them?" He had been curious as to whether she would survive. While it was true that she was the stronger of them, her complete aversion to light and the approaching dawn had put matters decidedly into the Guardians' favor. Her head snapped back towards him, once more fixing him with a savage glare.

"It was a narrow thing." The venom with which she had spat the sentence at him let him know that there would be no peace between them once night had fallen. The witch was content to bide her time, patiently awaiting the moment when the sun would no longer provide him any protection from her. Giving her one brief nod of understanding, he gathered the shadows about him, moving quickly from her home even as she lunged towards the spot she last knew him to be, her talons slicing through the air in a downward arc snagging on something briefly. Finding herself once more alone in her bower, Annis allowed herself a moment to voice her displeasure with a primal yawp.

* * *

The grandmother's words had stuck with Jack. It was possible that she was aware of something which could aid them in stopping Annis. Unfortunately, she was unable to see them. Her belief had likely departed her many years before her own daughter was born. Asking her directly was not an option that was available to them, no matter how much he wished it so.

Perched on his staff as he was, both feet resting on the top curve of the crook as the butt of the staff was planted firmly against the ground, he was certain that his comrades felt he might topple over at any moment. He could think of no other explanation for their continual rustling behind him. The position had always been his preferred place to think, especially when he had anything complex to ponder. Such was rare for him before he had been named a Guardian by Tsar Lunar. The winter spirit could not help the wry reflection that his existence, though disappointing, had been far simpler before he had been 'called'.

Wind blowing towards him from the front caused him to perk up, dismounting the roost he had been more than happy to keep simply because it agitated the others. Left hand closing tightly about the middle of his staff, the wooden implement began glowing an ethereal cyan, casting his face in shadow where the curve of the crook showed. The change in his body language did not go unremarked. His ears heard Bunnymund draw a boomerang from its sheath as the leather strips covering the pooka's feet cracked with the hare's otherwise stealthy steps.

He could feel the cool darkness in front of him, increasing the energy he was channeling into his shepherd's crook. The haggard form revealed when the shadows dispersed caused Toothiana to gasp behind him, her right hand flying to her mouth to cover the sound. North exclaimed his surprise in Russian. Predictably, Sandy's dream dust began shifting rapidly. Though Jack could not see the shapes formed, he could hear the agitation in the speed of the dream weaver's movements. Unrelenting, he increased the intensity of the glow. The ethereal light lent eerie shadows to the rabbit's fur as he leaned down to pull the noticeably injured spirit from the shadow that had placed the nightmare king at their feet.

"What game are you playing now, Pitch?"

Holding up his hands in surrender, the boogeyman moved from his prone position to sit, still allowing them to maintain their positions of superiority. "No games."

"Then why are you here?" The Russian-accented question caused him to swallow uncomfortably.

"Yeah," Tooth chimed in. "What is this?"

"This?" Some fire entered his voice, though he was careful to keep it from showing in his posture. "This is my desperation in action."


	16. Break You

_Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians. I make no profit from this work of fiction._

**Many thanks** to Taranodongirl1 – each favorite and alert is appreciated!

**Special thanks **to Bloody-Rozez and snowing-in-the-spring-time – reviews are greatly appreciated!

_Bloody-Rozez – Yay! I'm glad I was able to fix that problem so easily. Thank you for the detail in your review. I like knowing when something's coming across as intended just as much as I welcome being advised that I've made an error. :) I must admit that you brought a smile to my face with your exuberance!_

_snowing-in-the-spring-time – Ah, but how much will he actually be working _with _them? ;)_

_I truly hope I can continue to keep each reader's interest through the rest of this tale. If for some reason my story falls short for you, please let me know. If you're not comfortable with leaving a logged in review, you can leave one as a guest, or you can PM me._

For those who like to use Facebook to follow stories:

w-w-w [d-o-t] facebook [d-o-t] c-o-m /pages/RogueMudblood/684906514892205

Questions can be asked there, but I will remove abusive posts. _(Readers in Germany, Austria, and Switzerland will not be able to view the Facebook page. Due to their legal regulations, those countries were excluded from the viewing audience.)_

_Constructive criticism is most welcome – please don't hesitate to tell me what works and what doesn't._

* * *

It had been uncomfortable, the sensation that had coursed through her when the connection had been severed so immediately. The energy that had flowed into her when her claws had sliced through him was unusual fare for her palate. The bitter taste lingered on her tongue longer than she liked. Sadly, several hours would have to pass before she could purge the pungent flavor with the sweet decadence of a mortal child.

Never had the witch drawn any essence into herself through her talons. She preferred to savor each morsel through oral consumption. Antiquated, to be certain, but the method had definite benefits. It was, she presumed, the equivalent to allowing a piquant aroma to tickle the senses. Every soul she consumed traveled into her through more mundane means than any would credit to her. Feeling the other spirit's dark energy flow into her from her talons had been both abnormal and bracing.

She considered briefly choosing to consume her next meal by sinking her razor-sharp nails into their heart the way she had siphoned the small amount of energy from the king of nightmares. A smile formed slowly on the ancient spirit's face as she contemplated the way it might feel. Recognizing that it might very well be the best way to eliminate the horrid aftertaste that lingered, she resigned herself to using that method for the first meal of the evening at the very least.

Annis was aware she had inflicted a wound on Pitch. It likely was not a grievous injury, but the pain he suffered might well be enough to incapacitate him for a time. The possibility that he would refrain from darkening her doorstep again was high. She gained some comfort from the knowledge that he would no longer be intruding on her hours of solitude. Immortal she might be, and not requiring of sleep – but neither meant she did not like to plan.

* * *

His chest _hurt_. He absentmindedly rubbed the spot where he had felt her talons slice into him, trying not to wince as the dark material he favored brushed roughly over the affected area. While the nightmare king would be among the first to acknowledge that spirits were not affected by injuries in the same way that mortals would be, that fact did not stop him from feeling the pain from the point of impact. Watching the overgrown rabbit smack the blade of his boomerang against the pad of his paw repeatedly gave the master of fear no hope of avoiding any future pain. He winced as the possibility that the Guardians might do actual harm to him loomed large.

Making note of the way Pitch kept moving one palm slowly over his chest, Bunnymund's suspicions increased. The history he had with the malevolent spirit prevented him from ever being able to trust the other entity entirely. Dismissing the sudden way in which the nightmare king had arrived, the fact that his behavior was so dubious gave the pooka no reason to doubt their past history. The hare narrowed his eyes, certain that the dark spirit was trying to devise a way in which he could attack them.

When the heels of the hefty black boots thudded as they connected with the ground beneath, the lagomorph tensed. The steady clap of the wood connecting with his fur-covered paw ceased as he prepared to strike with the weapon. His muscles only relaxed when Pitch settled once more, the thump against the snow-covered soil having resulted from the repositioning of the nightmare king's long legs. The pooka ceased his pacing, standing directly in front of the dark spirit as he waited for the others to finish their conversation. He could not help but hope that they would all agree on giving the evil being over to Tsar Lunar and being done with it.

"Why do you hate me so much?"

The silken baritone sent shivers up the rabbit's spine. Turning to face the nightmare king, he did not even attempt to hide the sneer from his features. His furry features were twisted into a mask of fury, his upper lip curled grotesquely as he regarded the other being. "You _are_ joking, yeah?"

"No, really. I'm not." The hare stepped toward Pitch menacingly. "Hear me out!" The near squeak audible in his own voice caused the dark spirit to purse his lips in distaste. The panicked tone had the desired effect, though, as Bunnymund halted his approach. His demeanor was no less intimidating, but he no longer appeared prepared to use his boomerang to see if blood could be drawn from their ilk. "Without fear, there would be no need for goodness, right?"

Eyes narrowed, the lagomorph's ears twitched. Pitch realized he was rapidly losing any chance for a rapport with the tall hare. He was exceedingly grateful when the others walked back over, the emotion evidenced by a a deep exhalation. Catching sight of the measured rise and fall of the malevolent spirit's chest, Bunnymund chuckled.

"One thing you might like to remember, _mate_." Nervous eyes raised to meet the verdant green focused fully on him. "I don't care for _small talk_."

Jack's snort had the nightmare king turning his attention to the blind guardian. "He really does mean that. He _hates_ small talk." The ice wielder formed a snowball in his hand, passing it between his palms. Pitch's eyes followed the path of the white sphere. Never suspecting that the Guardians would attempt to distract him, the dark spirit was unprepared for the gentle sprinkling of the dream weaver's dust that landed on his nose just before he lost consciousness.

"A'right, what could possibly have taken so long to decide? He's a menace, and he's been helping that barbarous sheila. She didn't just try to scare Conall this morning. She wanted to _kill_ him."

Dissolving the snowball, Jack nodded in thanks to Toothiana as his staff touched his palm. Leaning his cheek against the curve of the crook with its base firmly planted on the ground, the youngest guardian simply listened as the others tried to explain their reasoning to his furry companion. Smiling, he shook his head. He knew just how obstinate the Australian could be when he chose, something the others chose to overlook simply because they had all known each other for so long. While the mischief maker would certainly admit that each of them could make claims regarding stubbornness, despite all the times he had tried to enter North's workshop, the jolly spirit had never held a grudge. Bunnymund, on the other hand, had held one for more than a century over a single blizzard.

Jack's head rose quickly from its resting position. The sudden movement caught the rabbit's eye, who turned from the heated discussion he had been having with the others in slight concern. His long ears had not picked up any alarming sounds. The distress evident in the younger guardian's posture did not abate when the others finally took note of the change and ceased their prattling.

"What is it, Jack?" The Russian's question was abnormally quiet, his caution causing the others to tense in preparation of they knew not what.

"Annis likes the cold."

A golden question mark appeared above Sandy's head, followed quickly by the image of an egg. Another drift of the dream dust shaped itself into a hammer, striking the egg at the top. The sand-egg split apart slightly, a crack visible in the shell. Bunnymund snorted.

"Whatever it is you're sayin', Sandy, just hear me out." Shrugging, the dream guardian allowed the image to dissipate. "She doesn't just like it though – she _adores_ it."

"Okay..." Toothiana's impatience was obvious in the slight edge to her tone.

"So she's a winter spirit. Like me." Silence fell over the group for a brief moment before a cacophony of voices denied the comparison. Holding up his left hand, his staff resting gently against his right palm, he waited for them to quiet once more. "No, I don't mean I'm like her. I mean … We know she's behind the extended winter. Somehow."

"Da. Jack, what are you trying to say?" North seemed genuinely confused by the ice wielder's train of thought.

"There was something she told me when she was letting me know all of that. It's important, I know it." Jack's brow furrowed as he concentrated on remembering, his frustration evident in the frown marring his features. Several minutes passed in near silence before a smile alighted the youngest guardian's features once more. "She told me she's bound to the isles."

Bunnymund's ears perked up. "How?"

Jack shrugged. Lifting his staff from the ground, he swung the crook so that it was pointing towards the unconscious malevolent spirit in their midst. "I don't know. But I bet _he_ does."

* * *

"Libby, I didn't lose my mind! I'm telling you, there was a six foot tall _rabbit_ on that hill!"

The sound of the argument floated down the hall, catching Piers' attention as he turned the corner coming out of the stairwell on the way back to his brother's room. His raised eyebrows lent his young face a look far more mature than his brief years on the earth warranted. Walking slowly down the corridor, the boy made an effort to go unnoticed as he slipped into the open door, listening intently to the girls' conversation.

"I know what you _think_ you saw. An' I _had_ to tell your mum, Maisie! I couldn't risk there was something … _bad_ causing you to see what you think you did."

A feminine growl peppered the air. "You keep saying 'think I saw.' Just because _you're_ too closed-minded to accept that there are some things you have to take on faith doesn't mean that _everyone_ is." He chuckled lightly at the girl's statement, giving away his presence in the room. His eyes widened as the curtain was yanked back. Her emerald orbs glinted with mirth as she crossed her arms, the hospital gown hanging loosely on her frame. "An' I suppose you'll tell me _he's_ not there either."

Glaring at her friend, the other girl scoffed. "Of course the little eavesdropper's there. He's _real_." Piers could not have stopped the rumbling laugh that erupted if he had tried. Tears of amusement squeezed from the corners of his eyes. "Just what is so funny, little boy?"

The disdain in her voice ended his laughter, the levity quickly leaving the situation. "You've had your friend admitted to the hospital because you don't believe in the Easter Bunny."

"First off, it's not Easter. If she thinks she's seein' him in June, then we have a serious problem."

"Aside from the fact that we _do_ have a serious problem? I'll bet she really did see him. Tall fellow, blue fur, had jeweled arm guards?" Eyes wide in astonishment and jaw slightly slack, Maisie nodded. Piers crossed his arms over his chest as he turned back to the other girl. "He's not the only one that's real."

"I suppose you're going to tell me that the tooth fairy has massive pink wings." The girl's derision was obvious in her scornful tone. Piers just shook his head, turning back to Maisie.

"Lost cause, that one." Not having had any sympathy for the past two days since her friend had seen it as a duty to have Maisie treated for some medical malady, the emerald-eyed girl found herself full of appreciation for this strange boy.

Sighing as she threw her hands up in exasperation, Libby shook her head. Leaning down to grab something from the floor on the side of the bed hidden from the doorway, she missed the exaggerated eye roll from Piers which drew an exuberant laugh from Maisie. Standing once more, she fixed her friend with sad eyes. "I have to go now – it's almost dark out. I'll … see you tomorrow, I guess." Her head was still shaking slowly with her sadness as she left the room.

Moving closer to the girl laying in the hospital bed, he positioned himself so he could watch the street from the window in her room. "Well." Piers extended his hand. "I'm Piers. My brother Conall's just down the hall. He was saved from drowning by the ice ki– by Jack Frost." The girl's eyes widened slightly. Reaching out she took his hand, giving it a firm shake.

"Maisie. Or as the nurses keep calling me when they think I can't hear, the-girl-who's-lost-the-plot." Piers snorted. Silence passed between them as they both kept vigil, each wanting to make sure that her friend did make it safely to a vehicle. Seeing the girl wrap her arms tightly about a woman he assumed was her mother before getting into a car parked by the curb, he turned from the window. "Have you seen _her_?"

The girl's voice was soft and full of fear. He could not blame her – the hag had been more than terrifying. He just nodded. The pair sat in silence, a melancholy settling over them as the sun began to set once more.

* * *

Pitch had been exceedingly uncooperative once he had regained consciousness. To say that he was unamused by having been 'sucker punched' would have been a gross understatement. The dark spirit had been livid when he had opened his eyes. Short of snarling at them whenever they so much as took a step in his direction, he had not provided any verbal response to the Guardians' numerous queries. No matter what attempt was made to appease him, he refused to be placated, drawing his anger about him as a cloak nearly as manifest as the shadows in which he habitually hid.

Even with their attention focused on him, the group had not been prepared for his sudden departure. Unfortunately, Pitch had himself been taken by surprise at his unplanned exit. He had fled to them with the knowledge that their innate goodness would prevent them from causing him harm. He had not factored in any deceitfulness when he had made his sudden decision to leave Annis' side. In retrospect, he supposed he should have, as Sanderson had once allowed him to believe that he had managed to defeat the ancient dream weaver. Regardless, finding himself once more in the malevolent witch's clutches had not been in his plans for the evening.

Eyes widening as he took in her furious features, he hastily took stock of his surroundings. She had certainly been paying attention, as she had negotiated with the wind to bring him to a clearing flooded with the light from the face of the full moon. The shadows were few and far. Any he tried to draw close were dissipated quickly by the pool of light into which he had been planted.

"You wanted light." Her silver eyes flashed with hatred as she practically spat the words.

"Ah. Though they are both celestial orbs, I must say I prefer the sun's rays." He was actually proud of the fact that he had managed to keep his voice from wavering and did not squeak with the trepidation coursing through him. The spot on his chest that had felt her claws throbbed painfully. He could only imagine what Jack must feel when in her presence. She possessed only a small part of his dark essence, but she held the ice wielder's vision hostage.

Her face, for the first time since he had been in her presence, was impassive. Pitch excelled at reading other beings – mortals and spirits alike. It made drawing on his ability to manipulate terror that much easier. With both her face and posture not revealing anything about her state of mind, though, the nightmare king found himself largely unprepared when she attacked him.

To his credit, he had drawn his scythe the moment he saw her foot twitch. The blade had swung towards her in a beautiful arc, but it had not been able to connect before the moon's light dissolved its black essence. Annis tackled him, throwing her full weight against his form and landing them both on the frigid earth. Raising herself slightly off of him, she pulled her hand back, letting her talons gleam in the moonlight.

Eyes wide with fright at the prospect of her drawing more of his essence from him, Pitch raised his hands, placing them palm up in the snow beside his head. "You don't want to do this."

Her cackle echoed from the distant trees. "Oh, yes. I do. I want to break you."


	17. Wish

_Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians. I make no profit from this work of fiction._

**Special thanks **to Bloody-Rozez, and snowing-in-the-spring-time – reviews are greatly appreciated!

_Bloody-Rozez – I've left you a lengthy reply on the Facebook page._

_snowing-in-the-spring-time – Thank you! I'm so glad you're still enjoying the story, and that the writing is compelling enough to hold your interest. :)_

For those who like to use Facebook to follow stories:

w-w-w [d-o-t] facebook [d-o-t] c-o-m /pages/RogueMudblood/684906514892205

Questions can be asked there, but I will remove abusive posts. _(Readers in Germany, Austria, and Switzerland will not be able to view the Facebook page. Due to their legal regulations, those countries were excluded from the viewing audience.)_

_Constructive criticism is most welcome – please don't hesitate to tell me what works and what doesn't._

* * *

Pitch allowed his lips to twist into a smile. "Do you now?"

Baring her teeth, Annis seethed with anger, breath expelling from her lungs in a hiss forced through her clenched jaws. "Ready to end your nightmare?" Without waiting for an answer, she swung her hand downward only to find its momentum halted by the tendrils of darkness pressing firmly against it at the underside of her wrist. Brow furrowing in confusion, she glared down at her intended prey. "How?"

His smile darkened as the king of nightmares drew the small amount of shade she had provided him to his aid. "You stepped into the light, _darling_." His hands had not moved, still lying palm up beside his head in the snow even as he felt the cold moisture seeping into the fabric at his back. Using her own shadow, he pushed against her, keeping her talons from making contact.

Snarling, she braced her knees against the soft earth, removing her weight from his prone form. The light being directly overhead, as brightly as it shone in the open field, kept the shadows to a minimum. With her change in position, the witch provided him with a greater source on which to draw. His eyes danced with mischief as he manipulated the shade she created, wrapping the darkness about her ankles and lower legs. Bracing his elbows against the wet earth, he slipped himself from underneath her. With Annis bound to the snowy ground, Pitch rose above her, backing away quickly to put distance between her talons and his chest.

The brightness of the moon seemed to fade as his steps tread further from her. With the increased darkness, he was able to summon his scythe without difficulty. Sparing a brief glance skyward, he whispered his gratitude to the ancient spirit he knew was looking down on them. Turning his gaze back to the harridan glaring at him and growling, he grinned maliciously.

"You took something from me earlier." The pole of the scythe pressed firmly against his palm as he rolled it between his fingers and thumb. She snarled as he stepped closer to her. "I mean to have it back." Lifting the scythe, he swung the weapon around to his right, intent on piercing the witch. Before he could complete the arc, the moonlight shone brighter directly in his path, causing the black glittering blade to apparently dissolve before it could connect with the hag.

Pitch bared his teeth as he glared up at the moon. "I take it back, old friend." His eyes were narrowed as he spun from Annis' confined form, taking advantage of her state to make his way to the trees. Wrapping himself in the abundant shadows once he was there, he slipped into the darkness before releasing the tendrils holding the witch prisoner. As he disappeared into the trees, his curses against the moon floated back into the clearing on the passing wind.

* * *

Jack had heard the wind coming. He had felt the forcefulness of the breeze increase. Even so, he had been as surprised as the others when it had virtually snatched the nightmare king from their grasp. The ice wielder had relied on his rapport with the element for hundreds of years. Sadly, the accord which he had always presumed existed between them seemed to have been erased – or superseded. Considering for a brief moment that the element might favor the witch because more people currently believed in her, the winter spirit dismissed the idea as he recalled how the wind had responded more readily to him when he had called on it while in her presence.

He silently deliberated the possibility that he was at fault for Pitch's abduction given that he had not made any attempt to cajole the element. Shaking his head, the white haired guardian recognized the folly of such an argument. In order to make an appeal to the force of nature, he would have required some knowledge of its intent. Falling short of that, he would have needed to know that the dark spirit was being shanghaied. Though he had been relying on sound in order to move about for several days, the boogeyman had been quite taciturn. Since, as spirits, none of them _needed _to breathe, it had been a simple matter for the nightmare king to effectively mask his presence from the winter spirit. Confident that it had been through no fault on his part that Pitch had been seized, Jack concentrated his attention on the others' conversation.

"An' so what if the witch _does_ kill 'im?"

Toothiana's shocked gasp was quickly followed by the rapid, angry flutter of her wings. "Aster Bunnymund! I am _shocked _you would say such a thing!"

Jack focused on the sounds around the group rather than the ensuing argument. He heard the fur of the pooka's chest rub against the protective arm guards, having no doubt that the hare had crossed his arms over his chest. The clanking noise as the two braces met brought a smile to the youngest guardian's face. He could make out North's sigh just prior to the crunch of snow underneath the Russian's boots as the jolly spirit stepped forward to end the squabble. Though Jack could only guess as to what images the dream sand was being shaped into, the sound of it shifting caused him to quirk his lips in amusement. The sound of the wind returning diverted his attention.

Giving no warning to the others, he spread his arms. Shepherd's staff glowing brightly, he erected a tall wall of ice around them. The gale that pushed against the barrier merely seconds after he had created it brought with it a torrent of snow and ice, reinforcing the natural barricade. Not trusting the wind to hold him aloft until he reestablished their bond, his feet were covered in the snow that blanketed the ground. The ice wielder had assumed that the chattering teeth he had heard were Bunnymund's. He was quite shocked when the gusts slacked a bit to find that the noise came from his own mouth.

The youngest guardian felt the fur of the rabbit's arms as they wrapped firmly around him. Leaning back into the warmth his friend offered, Jack attempted to cajole the wind and draw it back to his side. While some of the breeze yielded and dissipated in the next wave that pushed against the enclosure, a good bit more of the element seemed to reinforce the attack against the group. His brow furrowed as he continued his gentle efforts to entice the very air to his aid. Unable to completely convince the element, he settled for asking it why it was suddenly so aggressive towards them.

He was shocked when the gusts seemed to respond. The force he had perceived as an offensive was the wind's only means of giving him warning. Despite the newly gained insight, he was not able to pass the information on to the others before the witch entered the town. Hidden as they were within the icy barricade he had constructed, she was not immediately aware of their presence. The Guardians, though, were mindful of hers without Jack having to inform them. North's muttered Russian let the ice wielder know that they were cognizant of her arrival.

The change occurred more quickly than it had near the canal. Biting his lip to prevent himself from voicing his surprise, Jack noted that his vision was much clearer this time. It was still incredibly murky, but he could make out her form beyond the wall of ice shielding them from her view. The malevolent hag seemed to be floating rather than walking. He supposed it lent her a creepier presence among the children, though her sharp teeth and razor-like talons were horrifying enough on their own. The breeze surrounding her seemed to be cooler than that which had buffeted the hastily constructed buffer the ice wielder had provided.

Seeing the currents as they swirled about her, Jack reached out towards them, siphoning the cool energy back into himself. Annis noticed the change almost immediately, swiveling about in search of him. Her investigation of the area was impeded by Piers' and Conall's grandmother stepping out into the yard. The mortal's presence provided an instantaneous distraction.

"Brave or foolish. Which are you, mortal?"

The old woman simply stood in front of the evil harridan with a small sachet. Waiting until it was obvious that the elderly lady did not intend to move, he broke the barrier separating them from the tableau playing out in the street, drawing enough of the cold energy into himself to form a hole in the wall large enough for each of them to move through. The winter spirit was the first to step out of the barricade. Seeing the breeze headed towards him before he felt it, he gave no resistance as it bore him aloft, carrying him that much more swiftly towards the witch's intended victim.

Jack did not arrive before the boys' grandmother decided to act. Her movements were deliberate, and even with his imperfect vision, he was able to quite clearly see the ensuing attack. The small spice bag had a piece of thin twine tied about the top to keep it sealed. One firm tug released the knot, the pungent aroma of the plants contained within peppering the air. The old woman did not make any attempt to catch the falling string, instead prying open the lips of the sachet and strengthening the strong scent wafting on the breeze.

Though the smell was anything but offensive to the ice wielder, the witch was clearly disturbed by it. She shielded her nose, suddenly halting her advance. Her eyes narrowed at the grandmother, hissing as she backed away.

"As you can see, you old beast, I'm not foolish." The old woman's voice shook, though the youngest guardian could not determine if that was the result of age or the manifestation of fear. Either way, the declaration echoed through the empty avenues of the town. Several shutters opened, revealing lights and many adults looking out their windows to determine the source of the voice. A window a short distance from the malevolent witch, however, exposed the presence of a young girl. Had she simply closed the shutters back, Annis may never have noticed her. She chose instead to voice her terror in a high-pitched scream that reverberated loudly.

Jack watched with disgust as nearly all the windows were shuttered at the realization that the sound had likely only been the precursor to the horrible harridan taking a meal. Their acceptance of the tyranny she sought to impose upon them infuriated the young spirit.

Her approach of the innocent child prompted him to take action. Though he knew she could easily best him in a fight, he had no intentions of simply allowing _any_ child to perish. Holding his left hand out in front of him, he thrust the butt of his staff into the earth with his right. Concentrating on channeling the cold surrounding her through him and back into the earth through the conduit of the shepherd's crook, he nearly missed the Boomerang that whizzed past his head, aimed for the shutters in an attempt to knock them closed.

Ignoring the grandmother's yells as she continued to blow handfuls of spice dust at the witch, Jack felt the sweat breaking out on his brow at the effort he was expending. The others seemed intent to engage the evil spirit in battle, approaching her with equal measures of force and cunning. The ice wielder barely had time to register that North's cossack sabres slid through her form without causing damage when he fell to his knees. Seeing Tooth's mini-fairies pecking at the hag without success through rapidly blurring vision gave him little hope that the effort he had expended would benefit them.

The young guardian made one last attempt at causing the malevolent spirit to turn and run. Calling on the wind, he hoped it would respond favorably. It swirled about him in a seeming endorsement of his intent before sweeping the grandmother's sachet away from her hand and dumping the spices within on the ancient spirit in a single gust.

Annis' agonized screams consumed her as the savory-scented concoction covered her head and shoulders. The breeze having abandoned her, she swiped at the Guardians with her talons before attempting to abandon the victim she had chosen. As she turned, she found her path blocked by the sallow-skinned boogeyman. She sneered at him in dismissal as she attempted to push past him. Rather than allow her to leave unscathed, he produced his shadowy scythe. Without warning, he swung the blade, the glittering black dust from which it was composed embedding itself in her eye. The volume of her wails trebled.

Having entered the girl's room to comfort her once he had realized his swords would be ineffective, North insisted she stay away from the window before he launched himself out of it once more when the anguished cries did not abate. Seeing their ancient nemesis attacking the witch confused him. His jaw falling slightly slack, he was focused entirely on the shocking scene. As a result, he did not notice when Bunnymund yelled Jack's name, having seen the younger guardian collapse.

Rushing towards his fallen comrade, the rabbit knelt next to him, paying no heed to the wet precipitation that soaked his knees. He cradled his friend as he lifted the youngest guardian into his grasp. Watching the winter spirit's eyes twitch, he began to worry about the repercussions of the efforts Jack had expended. While they certainly wished to end the cruel oppression that Annis intended to make into a normal environment, the lagomorph was concerned about the cost. Having been consumed with his thoughts about the welfare of the spirit lying in his arms, he did not notice what eventually forced the witch to depart, only the silence left in her wake.

The white haired guardian's shaking had abated some, though his eyes continued to twitch. Hearing the snow crunch underneath an approaching boot, the pooka fired his boomerang without even glancing away from his companion's face. The disapproving tongue-clucking that followed the action caused his head to snap up. Standing before him, scythe glowing with a cyan aura, the weapon appeared more menacing and otherworldly than he could previously recall.

"Is that any way to treat someone who just helped you?" The rabbit snorted derisively. "Such a pity you should act this way." Pitch knelt down next to the pair, the insincere grin on his face bringing a sneer to the hare's lips. "Well, perhaps I'll give you a reason not to distrust me." The confusion evident in Bunnymund's posture allowed the nightmare king to act. His hand deft and his aim true, he swung the blade of his scythe, the tip connecting with Jack's staff. The glow flowed from one weapon to the other steadily.

As the ice wielder had been clutching the staff when it was struck, the effects of the apparent attack were nearly instantaneous. The agonized wails filling the atmosphere were of a deep register. Though his body shook slightly as he was cradled in Bunny's arms, the younger spirit did not convulse more than to arch his back as his mouth fell open to express the tortuous pain. Screaming until his throat was raw, the youngest guardian finally ceased his anguished cries as the glow from the scythe faded. Tears were soaking the fur of his face as the pooka gently traced a finger down his companion's cheek. Gasping for air, Jack forced his eyes open.

He blinked rapidly as he stared up into the verdant emerald eyes gazing down at him in worry. Giving the rabbit a gentle smile, the winter spirit reached a hand up to lightly wipe away the still falling tears with the pad of his thumb.

"No need to cry, Kangaroo. It's not like I left you at the altar or anything."

The lagomorph's fur ruffled along the ridges of his spine. Seeing the effect of the words but not understanding the source of the hare's embarrassment, Sandy formed several images with his dream sand. One of those images included Jack in a wedding dress followed by a question mark, which caused the young guardian to laugh boisterously.

"You got that backwards, Sandy. I might be a winter spirit, but I'm not wearing white – even for this big lug."

Startled, Bunnymund stared down at the spirit still resting in his embrace. "You can see what he's doing?"

Smiling, Jack nodded. "Why, yes. Though that sounds really naughty when you say it like that." He winked mischievously, causing a blush to tinge the blue-hued fur.

The rabbit frowned slightly. Mock irritation filled his voice when he responded, having waited for the laughter to taper off. "You know, Frost, sometimes, I wish I didn't love you."


	18. Pity

_Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians. I make no profit from this work of fiction._

**Many thanks** to Jaymie Lee, LizardBot, and WynterSt0rm – each favorite and alert is appreciated!

**Special thanks **to Doug and snowing-in-the-spring-time – reviews are greatly appreciated!

_Doug – You're welcome, and I'm glad you're finding it interesting. I'd love to hear your thoughts on the story as it progresses, good or bad. :)_

_snowing-in-the-spring-time – Thank you! I hope this chapter meets your expectations. :)_

_Apologies for the lateness of this chapter. I was set upon by a plot bunny for a short little one shot piece which would not be appeased until it had been composed, putting me slightly behind schedule for this posting._

For those who like to use Facebook to follow stories:

w-w-w [d-o-t] facebook [d-o-t] c-o-m /pages/RogueMudblood/684906514892205

Questions can be asked there, but I will remove abusive posts. _(Readers in Germany, Austria, and Switzerland will not be able to view the Facebook page. Due to their legal regulations, those countries were excluded from the viewing audience.)_

_Constructive criticism is most welcome – please don't hesitate to tell me what works and what doesn't._

* * *

Piers had stayed in Maisie's room until her mother had come back. When he had walked back to Conall's room, the younger boy had been asleep, his face at peace for the first time since Annis had snatched him. Sitting down in a chair beside the bed, he watched his brother sleep. The rhythmic rise and fall of the younger boy's chest had nearly lulled him into unconsciousness. His mother's shocked gasp roused him awake once more.

"Mum?"

Rubbing his eyes, the older boy sat up in the chair, glancing towards the door. His mother was not talking to a doctor or nurse, but she was pacing. When she turned to walk back over the same path, he noticed the phone she was holding up to her ear. Cell phones were not generally permitted in infirmary. An exception had been made for her because she had informed the hospital personnel about her elderly mother at home alone.

Piers pulled himself up from the chair, stepping over to the doorway in the hope of letting his brother continue to sleep while he found out what was troubling their mother. She cut her eyes towards him as he approached but continued her pacing. Not entirely certain what was distressing her, he stepped closer, placing his body between her and the open door in an attempt to muffle any further sounds that might wake Conall from his much needed slumber.

After standing in silence for several minutes while she quietly questioned the person on the other end of the phone, Piers determined that his grandmother had called. The older woman, assured of the boys' relative health, had given his mother some very interesting news. Black Annis had come to his house. He shuddered at the thought, realizing that the witch was sending a message. It was of no consequence to her that they knew where she lived, because she was likewise aware of their home.

The color drained from his face as he realized the very certain danger in which his grandmother had found herself. Their exploration could have harmed her, something for which that neither he nor his younger brother would have been able to forgive themselves. It occurred to Piers in that moment that they needed to find the means by which to dispatch the evil spirit.

She had turned the world upside down, creating snow in June. He had watched the news reports claiming that the abnormal frost from which they suffered was spreading further into the country. While the more northern parts of the country were accustomed to cooler climes in summer, snow was not a regular occurrence. The ice had killed crops that were consumed not only by the people living in the area, but also by the livestock. People who were normally flush with meat at this time of the year were having to make drastic changes to their diets. While these matters were normally not an area of concern for children, _everyone_ had been affected by this weather. As much as Piers liked the snow, even he wished for the powdery white substance to leave England be.

His mother finally ended the call, snapping the old flip phone shut and holding the cool metal casing against her forehead. Walking over to her, he placed a hand gently on her shoulder. She opened her eyes, looking down into his wide, questioning orbs. Kneeling, she gave him a sad smile as she explained that they would not be able to go back home right away. She told him about how the witch had boldly walked down the street and almost killed the little girl living across the way. When she finished, she told him that she would do her best to make sure he and Conall were safe, admonishing him not to run off exploring again and certainly not during the predawn hours. She rose from the crouching position she had taken as she spoke, turning from him. She muttered several things as she moved back into the room. One of her comments stood out more than the others, and Piers was completely confused by her reference.

"_What I don't understand is why blowing spices should scare such a creature."_

* * *

None of them could say definitively what Pitch had done. The reason why was even more elusive. They had been somewhat surprised to find he had disappeared once Jack had his sight back. When the winter guardian had been told how his vision had been returned to him, he had frowned slightly. Some of the mirth left him while he contemplated the bogeyman's decision.

Seeing their white haired comrade pacing in deep thought, North and Tooth returned to the little girl Annis had attempted to consume. Though she was unable to see Toothiana, the fairy remained in the room, watching North as he comforted the girl after her parents had left. They were certain she had awakened screaming from a nightmare, blissfully unaware of how real the 'dream' had been for their little girl. Standing by the window, the fairy's pink wings fluttered lightly. She made an effort to keep them quiet so she would be able to hear the conversation she expected to open up between Jack and Bunnymund.

The two spirits in question were quieter than was their habit. While the rabbit could be quite taciturn, the mischievous winter guardian rarely was, his very nature seeming to require a boisterous approach to the world around him. Even when no children had believed in him – or none of whom he had known – Jack had been renowned for his rambunctious antics. The lagomorph bowed his head to hide the smile his memory elicited, recalling an occasion on which he had imparted some of the mortals' wisdom to the ice wielder. He had been somewhat irritated at the winter spirit's continual interference in the egg hunts. Knowing how the younger spirit liked to talk aloud, despite the lack of response from the mortals, he had blithely told Jack that only those who had gone stark raving mad kept themselves as conversational partners.

That rowdy spirit was far removed from the Guardian standing a scant distance from him, feet bare and covered in wet snow. The hare frowned as he looked up at his friend. Losing Jamie's belief had been a cutting blow to the youngest guardian. He had taken the incident as a rejection. Jack had known better than any of them how well a spirit could exist without a child's belief. That awareness did not make the moment he realized that Jamie's light was no longer shining on North's globe any less painful.

Even with the terrible things the white haired guardian had uttered against him, the pooka had remained by his side. He had taken the verbal abuse, sparring back and delivering cutting remarks in kind. Toothiana had not understood the rapport at first, pulling him aside to castigate him. The tall rabbit had simply taken the reprimand in stride, and continued the verbal quarrels with the youngest among them whenever the need arose. Over time, even the fairy had been able to see that the bickering had prevented the mischief maker from slipping into depression.

When Jack had followed him back to the warren a month before Easter one year, he had let the ice wielder mope for a day. Seeing the other spirit was still there as the sun rose, Bunnymund had brought him a basket full of white eggs, a bucket of pastel green paint, and a thin brush. The rabbit could still clearly recall the look of shock with which the younger spirit had graced him. He had merely smirked, telling the white haired guardian that staying in the warren meant working. The declaration had been met with a scowl and a request for a different color of paint.

The memories were bittersweet, but they were all too often the only consolation the pooka had. Watching the ice wielder as he quietly ruminated over the events of the evening, he noticed something that made his brow furrow. As Jack passed his staff between his hands, the rabbit could clearly see Sandy, golden body glittering as he tried resolutely to ignore them, through the one when it released the shepherd's crook. Bunnymund walked slowly over to him, using the younger spirit's distraction to catch the staff as it was passed back to the limb causing the hare concern.

Gripping the winter spirit's wrist firmly, he turned the hand so the palm faced upward. He looked up, his verdant green eyes meeting Jack's icy cerulean gaze. Pitch may have returned the eyesight of which he had robbed the youngest guardian, but he had kept some part of the spirit. A gaping hole remained in the appendage.

* * *

His plan had required the utmost care in its execution. Pitch had been aware of that when he had devised it, yet certain that it would benefit him in the end. The rush of energy that had entered him when his scythe had sliced into Annis' form had been intoxicating, moreso than the unbelievable euphoria which he had experienced at stealing a portion of Jack Frost.

As angry as he had been at Tsar Lunar for denying him the right to kill the witch in the clearing, he recognized when the blade slipped into her _why_ the elder spirit had prevented her demise. The resistance to the force with which he had swung his glittering black scythe was staggering. He had pressed onward, knowing that the only way he could sever the connection Annis had forged was to draw the essence she had stolen from him back into himself. Once he was certain he had managed to remove all of his own elements, he drew back the energy she had siphoned through his scythe which rightfully belonged to the youngest guardian.

He had felt overwhelmingly satisfied as he watched her eye dissolve. Seeing the organ form in the black depression in her skull had been sickening. Observing the orb as it disintegrated had also been revolting. The vindication he felt once it was removed, though, justified the disgusting procedure. Once it had completely liquified, oozing to the ground, he had withdrawn the blade. He realized that there was a piece of Jack still within the witch. The portion of his essence that remained was small, just as the fragment she had stolen from him had been only a meager amount. That paltry bit had been enough to allow her to track him and use her affinity with the wind to draw him to her.

Leaving the small amount of the Guardian in the witch was the most he could bring himself to give them aid. Providing information when he was threatened could be excused. It was not in his nature to help them, though. Fleeing to them after she had attacked them had been a decision made out of desperation. The knowledge that even though he was their enemy, they would protect him from a mutual nemesis had carried him there. Pride had kept him from revealing anything, prompting them to leave the rabbit to watch over him.

Content as he was to stir up trouble and plant seeds of doubt in the hare's mind, the nightmare king had not faked his ire at their ambush. Most of his aggravation was at himself, a fact he recognized grudgingly. The same irritation came to the fore as he had withdrawn the blade before grasping that last bit of Jack's essence.

When he had touched his blade to the ice wielder, he had been almost certain that the pooka was willing to rend him limb from limb. He had shuddered slightly at the thought, vanishing quickly once the deed was done. His shadows curled protectively about him as he watched them from a nearby roof. As the rabbit had _finally _realized that ice wielder's hand had not been made whole he let the shadows carry him further away.

"Soon they'll find you, witch. It won't be long before they find your secrets too."

No one heard his ominous words or the dark laughter that followed them.

* * *

Shortly after the sun had risen, a car pulled up to the house. The boys piled out quickly, Conall feeling energized from the medicine he had been provided from the infirmary. Once inside, Piers left his younger brother in the main room, seeking out his grandmother. Finding her preparing hasty pudding in the kitchen, he could not help but smile. She had always been an unmovable pillar within their family. He had often thought her obstinate with her refusal to consider new things – her squawks of outrage at the idea of frozen meals had provided him as much amusement as they had given his mother a strong aversion to bringing up any further innovations.

He walked over to her quietly, his feet barely making any sound as he tread lightly on the tile floor. She turned as he reached her, handing him a bowl full of the breakfast dish. Shaking his head, he smiled, accepting the bowl and taking his seat at the kitchen table. He took two bites, letting the maple syrup rest on his tongue before swallowing. Setting the spoon down, he looked up at her, only to find her already regarding him with a raised eyebrow.

"Gran, mum said you did something with spices to hurt Annis?"

The older woman smiled. "I did indeed, my boy. She didn't like it one bit. What surprised me though was the overwhelming feeling that I wasn't alone." Piers ducked his head to hide his smile. The ice king might be a scion of winter, but he was certainly on their side in their battle against the witch. Maybe he would see if he could convince Conall to tell the elderly lady about the benevolent spirits. "In fact, I'm quite certain I had help."

Swallowing another bite of the breakfast dish, the boy looked up at her. "What makes you say that?"

Gracing him with a knowing smile, she simply winked, letting the conversation end as she called his brother in to get a bowl of the pudding. When she stepped out of the room after dipping up the bowl and helping the younger boy to sit at the table, Piers leaned across the small expanse.

"Gran knows how to hurt Annis."

"What? Are you sure?" Conall's voice squeaked with the trepidation coursing through him.

"Yes! She called mum while you were asleep. The witch was here last night." The color drained from his brother's face at the revelation. "Gran attacked her with some kind of spice. I don't know what it was yet, but I'm hoping she'll tell us. Maybe if you told her about the others –"

Piers' suggestion was cut off by the raised voices coming from the other room. Curious, both boys rose from the table, leaving their barely touched breakfasts behind.

"I don't _care_ what it costs!" It was rare that the elder woman allowed herself to get riled enough to raise the color in her cheeks.

"You should!" The boys' eyes widened, not accustomed to hearing either woman yell at the other. "That stuff's expensive, and I can't help it if you used all of it last night, throwing it into the snow."

"I didn't …" The older woman's voice trailed off, her words giving way to an exasperated sigh. "I told you, Annis was here."

"If Black Annis had been here, there would be a dead child somewhere among our neighbors!" The boys watched their mother as she took deep breaths, clearly agitated by the conversation. Their grandmother simply shook her head.

"So closed-minded. You can't accept that there are some things beyond your ken." She turned from her daughter, reaching for her own pocketbook as she headed for the door. "I can't imagine thinking I knew everything. It's a sad state you find yourself in, dear. And for that, I pity you."


	19. Not About You

_Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians. I make no profit from this work of fiction._

**Many thanks **to Canadian Reaper – each favorite and alert is appreciated!

**Special thanks **to Bloody-Rozez and snowing-in-the-spring-time – reviews are greatly appreciated!

_Bloody-Rozez – I certainly did miss you. :) I got your PM, and I'm glad your dad is not unwell. You'll find the rest of my reply on the Facebook page._

_snowing-in-the-spring-time – Thanks! And yes, yes she did. :)_

For those who like to use Facebook to follow stories:

w-w-w [d-o-t] facebook [d-o-t] c-o-m /pages/RogueMudblood/684906514892205

Questions can be asked there, but I will remove abusive posts. _(Readers in Germany, Austria, and Switzerland will not be able to view the Facebook page. Due to their legal regulations, those countries were excluded from the viewing audience.)_

_Constructive criticism is most welcome – please don't hesitate to tell me what works and what doesn't._

* * *

Sandy winced when the door slammed. The elderly woman standing in front of the closed portal scowled as she pulled on her gloves. Turning, she glared at the door briefly before stomping off down the lane. Floating alongside her on a cloud of dream dust, he regarded her with a touch of sadness. As a spirit he could easily identify with her exasperation of not being believed. The argument inside the house had drawn his attention as swiftly as it had attracted that of the children.

She wrapped her coat more tightly about her as she walked briskly along, the chill wind ruffling her hair as it passed. Coming quickly to a small shop tucked in amongst several brownstones, she pushed open the heavy front door. The old-fashioned bell hanging above the inside frame jingled as she made her way inside. Looking about, the older woman was confused. It had been some time since she had been out to purchase the spice herself. She generally waited for a delivery of the precious seeds, and her daughter had often tried to slip substitutes in on her.

The clerk greeted her, and seeing the somewhat lost look on her face, asked if he could be of assistance. She approached the counter with some apprehension, unaccustomed to seeing so many personal things on display as appeared to be available in this shop.

"I am sorry, I thought this was still George's place."

Smiling, the young man nodded. "Yes, ma'am. He still owns the store. Is there something I could help you find?"

In her bewildered state, she was certainly loathe to refuse any assistance she might be offered. She lowered her voice nearly to a whisper as she leaned closer to him. "I'm looking for Aniseed."

An amused smile slowly blossomed on the clerk's face. "If I may ask, ma'am, is there a specific purpose?" Seeing her brow beginning to furrow, he quickly clarified. "We've already applied the extract to lozenges, if that's what you need it for. Or, if it's as a … digestive aid, we have that extract available in a capsule." He held up packages of each as he continued with his explanation.

Sandy's eyes were wide as the ancient spirit took in all of the information. He carefully examined each product that the young man set up on the counter top for the older woman to consider. She declined each one, going so far as to wrinkle her nose when he offered the e-liquid.

After several moments of his continued prattling, she held up a hand to stop him. "Young man, I use the seeds for many reasons, but it is the seed itself I need, not its extract."

His shoulders dropped slightly. "I'm sorry to inform you then, ma'am. We haven't carried the seeds in several years. I don't know of many places that do. Most who use it for baking or cooking are content with the extract or one of the substitutes. And with this weather, there's certainly no possible way that any crop of it survived."

Pursing her lips, she nodded once and thanked him for his time. As she left the shop, Sandy slipped out with her, his eyes dancing with the delight of finally having a small clue. While she continued on her search for the spice, he raced back to his fellow Guardians.

* * *

Mad howls emerged from the evil spirit's cavern. It had not mattered that she had found two small children wandering alone in the woods and had drained them dry. She gained no solace from the soul of the suckling babe she had taken from the unattended pram. Her anger was too great to allow her comfort when she had spread the boundaries of the winter chill she was steadfastly creating outward another five miles. By the beginning of July, she would undoubtedly have England effectively frozen, and even that realization gave her no satisfaction.

Pitch had hobbled her once more. She had not had the time to fully enjoy the gift the energy stolen from the winter spirit had bestowed upon her before it was ripped from her. The essence leaving her form so forcefully had felt exactly as though her own claws were tearing into her own dark soul and creating enormous voids. Even as her eye had melted and oozed down her face, the witch had been focused on the absence of the energy more than the loss of sight.

Her anger at the injury manifested itself in physical rage once she had returned to her bower. Razor sharp claws had sparked as they connected with the granite floor of her cave, creating a deep chasm parallel to the one she felt was within her. Annis' fury seemed to have no end. She continued to move about her home, talons trailing against the stones as she seethed. Screams of resentment echoed off the rock walls, reverberating through the mouth of the cave. Had there been any wildlife to pass by, it would likely have been startled into death with the violence of her outbursts.

Though she did not require breath, her chest heaved and her shoulders rose and fell as she panted heavily. Hatred smoldered in her eyes as the witch's destructive rampage continued unabated. Even as her claws scraped a new crevice in the rock, she contemplated what method she could utilize to best attack the nightmare king for his betrayal. The Guardians – and even her ultimate goals – quickly diminished in importance as she attempted to contrive the best way to achieve revenge against the boogeyman.

* * *

Jack had been staring at his long-eared companion for more than an hour while Piers built a snowman underneath his brother's bedroom window. Bunnymund was not accustomed to being scrutinized for so long a period. His whiskers twitched and the fur on his back stood on end. Finally unable to simply sit and allow the other guardian to continue gazing at him with such intensity, he turned sharply to face the ice wielder.

"What?!"

The smirk on the mischief maker's face irritated him as much as it enthralled him. The rabbit shook his head, a smile alighting his lips. He should have expected the younger spirit to use any opportunity to create mayhem. A 'staring contest' was a bit of a change for him, though. Sadly, the mirth was short-lived. Melancholy settled over the younger spirit once more.

Noticing the change in the white haired guardian, North walked over and gently placed a large hand on his shoulder. "Do not worry, tovarisch. If she returns, we will be here."

"And if she goes elsewhere? What then?" Jack's eyes were downcast as he asked his question. Looking up, he met Bunnymund's gaze. The hare did not try to hide the anguish behind the verdant green eyes. None of them could claim any ignorance of what Annis was capable of doing. She seemed to be willing to go to any lengths in order to achieve her aims, regardless of any possible consequences. Like any starved predator suddenly allowed an abundant food supply, she did not see the danger in quickly picking off as many of her prey as she could at once.

The winter spirit's attention was diverted from his musings by the snowball that knocked against the base of his staff. Turning to face the direction from which the snowball had been launched, he found Piers grinning broadly at him. He could not help but smile at the boy's cheek, and quickly resolved to engage in the offered distraction. Content to watch from the sidelines, the Russian clapped a hand on Bunnymund's back.

"His moods seem more …." The Christmas spirit's brow was furrowed in thought as he considered the best description.

Picking up on his inability to express himself adequately in English, the pooka offered a suggestion based on his own observations. "Mercurial?"

"Da." Silence passed between the two spirits as they continued to watch Piers and Jack. Their attention was diverted within moments as a glittering exclamation mark formed in front of the tallest two Guardians. The symbol quickly morphed into an arrow, directing them to turn around. As they did, they found Sandy floating towards them rapidly on his sand cloud.

Without any preamble, the dream weaver began trying to tell them what he had learned. The sand shifted rapidly, forming a storefront, a young man, various types of mortal medicines, and finally the boys' grandmother walking away. Confused, the pooka shook his head, turning to see if North had understood the seemingly hysterical sand-babbling. The jolly guardian's brow was furrowed, displaying his lack of comprehension clearly. Sandy's mouth opened, his chest rising up and down as though heaving a great sigh.

He repeated the sequence again, the shapes congealing from the shifting dream dust much more slowly. Neither member of his audience seemed to be able to discern his meaning. The ancient spirit frowned, his finger tapping gently against his chin as he considered how he might be able to explain what he knew in a way that the others would be able to interpret. The giggle to his left followed by a laugh he had not heard for quite some time caught his attention. The sand formed a light bulb, and he raced over to the two.

His momentum carried him directly into the path of the snowball Jack had lobbed at Piers. The ice wielder's jaw fell slack. Approaching the ancient spirit, he swept the powdery precipitate from his body while offering apologies. The boy, while his play mate was attempting to avoid trouble, fell back into the snow, his body shaking with laughter. The winter guardian adopted a mock frown before joining in the raucous mirth.

Smiling at them both, Sandy formed a hand, palm extended outward, wrist down. Catching sight of the familiar symbol manifested in the dream dust, the pair ceased their antics. Slowly fashioning the same images once they had calmed somewhat, the golden guardian hoped that at least the boy would be able to provide some insight to the others. When he had finished, the boy looked up at him, his eyes slightly wide.

"Wow. You went to the store with gran. That must have been _really_ boring." Looking about, he noticed that there were no footprints in the snow. "Which is probably why you're back here when she's not."

The dream weaver frowned at the joke, forming an exclamation point from the sand before repeating the sequence once more. Again, they did not understand what he was trying to show them. Irritated by their wavering thoughts and seeming inability to focus, he floated up to Conall's window, slipping inside. The others followed, arriving in time to see the sand form of the grandmother walking away from Sandy as she continued down the street.

Tooth's brow was furrowed in confusion, but Conall's eyes were wide. He asked the spirit to repeat the sequence, stopping the images' rotation as the various medicines were laid on the counter. Leaning in, Piers began to examine them with the same scrutiny that his younger brother was applying. His eyes opened and his jaw fell slightly slack as he realized what he had overlooked before.

"Do you see what I see?" Conall took his eyes from the dust illustrations, staring at his brother as he voiced the question.

"Yeah, I think so. Gran always told us that one spice she cooks with was good for a lot of things. It's what she kept in that pouch you found downstairs after she left." Piers began pacing as he tried to recall the name of the savory seasoning his grandmother adored.

Conall furrowed his brow in concentration. The conversation his older brother had overheard a part of while he was sleeping in the infirmary bed had involved spices, and this was likely whatever had been able to debilitate the witch. His eyes widened, his head popping up as the memory came back to him. "Any seed!"

Sandy nodded emphatically, pointing at the young boy. He said it a little differently, but it sounded like the spice for which the older woman had asked. Tooth's joyful clapping followed, her wings buzzing rapidly behind her. The boys both smiled, happy to have been able to assist the immortal spirits, and hopefully having found something which could remove Annis from their lives.

"There's just one problem." Jack's declaration had the group turning towards him. Bunnymund was standing directly behind the ice wielder, so when the winter spirit took a step back at the force of the attention directed at him, he almost placed his bare heel on the smooth fur of the pooka's foot. The white haired guardian muttered a brief apology before attempting to explain. "How do we get it?"

The dream weaver formed an image of the grandmother, to which Piers began nodding emphatically. "Yeah. Gran will get some. I'm sure if we tell her what it's for she won't mind giving it to us." Conall gave a decisive nod, supporting his brother. The Guardians' attention was drawn from the boys as a voice emerged from the shadows, the sibilant sound grating on Jack's nerves.

"Oh, how marvelous. Just ask her for it. And tell her you want it to fight an ancient spirit who's been consuming the souls of children across the land." He leaned forward, his arms stretched at a backward angle. The shadows parted from his face enough to allow his eyes, filled with dark intent, to show through. "You think she'll be so careless as to allow her grand babies to scamper off and pick a fight with a malevolent spirit? She's more likely to pat you on the head or scold you."

Jack's eyes narrowed as he glared at Pitch. "Why are you here?"

The nightmare king scoffed. "To talk some sense into you. Failing that, if none of you can see that a lozenge isn't going to end the horror she intends to unleash, I plan on leaving you here to rot in misery with the hag."

"Leave?" The ice wielder's tone had darkened considerably. His staff was gripped tightly in his right hand, glowing with the infusion of his power. "You still have something of mine."

The dark spirit laughed, the sound hollow and devoid of mirth. "Me, me, me. Is there nothing else that concerns you, Jack?" He paused, staring at his fingernails as though wholly disinterested in the conversation. "_I_ have nothing of yours anyway."

The ice wielder snarled. He extended his wounded hand, freezing the water molecules in the air separating him from the boogeyman. Sneering, the elder spirit merely stepped to the side as the horizontal icicle approached him. "I mean _my hand_, Pitch!"

He narrowed his eyes as he stared back at the youngest guardian. "I'm well aware of what you meant. You do realize that this is not about _you_, don't you?" Jack straightened his stance, cocking his head to the left as the nightmare king continued his tirade. "Aren't you _Guardians_ always spouting about the kids, and how important it is to protect them? Aren't you supposed to be the ones offering to go after that harridan rather than sending mere _children _to do your work?"

Bunnymund scoffed. "We weren't going to let them face her again. Such a deadhead." The rabbit was shaking his head as he graced the dark spirit with a look of derision.

"Then how do you plan to get your precious spice? The woman can't see you, and it doesn't matter whether you actually intend to let these children accompany you – there's no way that she would give them anything she felt would put them at risk."

Angered by the tension the boogeyman was creating by continuing to berate them without offering a solution, Jack growled a bit as he advanced on their nemesis. "You give me back the bit of my essence you still have, and I'll work on making her believe." Closing his eyes, he pushed back the sadness at the memory of how he had rekindled Jamie's faith in his fellow Guardians. Exhaling, he opened his eyes slowly, fixing the nightmare king with a glare promising pain.

"It's not about you, Jack! Whether you have your entire essence or not is moot. Don't you understand anything about mortals? Or do you stop paying attention once they stop having faith in you?" The winter spirit reeled back a bit as though having been physically struck by the words. "They don't risk their young – not if they're the kind of people who would walk about town for hours trying to find the one thing which has been seen to have an effect on the horrid hag. No." Slipping back into the shadows, Pitch raised his voice so the sibilant sound still carried to them. "That type of mortal goes out in search of the harridan, intent to face the witch and kill her. No thought will be given to the possibility that they will fail. No thought will be spared for how to right things once the hag's demise is secured."

"You see, it's not just removing her as a threat. It's restoring the land to vitality once Annis is no longer an issue." The white haired spirit's eyes softened as he recognized the truth of the nightmare king's words. "But besides all that, the old woman couldn't see _me _last night. She saw the hag – and when she threw the paltry amount of spice she had in that bag, she saw the witch writhe in agony. She doesn't know that most of that reaction was to my scythe." Tooth's eyes widened as she placed a hand over her mouth, understanding dawning on her as to the boogeyman's message. "She'll seek the harridan out – and she'll throw that spice on her. When it doesn't cause as much havoc as it did out in that street, she'll be too confused to run. And Annis will kill her for what she knows." Sparing a glance towards the boys, the winter spirit noted the tears streaming down Conall's face. Piers was studiously swallowing in an attempt to keep his own sorrow at bay.

"So, you see, Jack, it's not about you. This isn't about you at all."


	20. Hate You

_Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians. I make no profit from this work of fiction._

**Special thanks **to Bloody-Rozez and snowing-in-the-spring-time – reviews are greatly appreciated!

_Bloody-Rozez – An extended reply can be found on the Facebook page. :)_

_snowing-in-the-spring-time – Don't count her out just yet. Spry old women can surprise you! :)_

For those who like to use Facebook to follow stories:

w-w-w [d-o-t] facebook [d-o-t] c-o-m /pages/RogueMudblood/684906514892205

Questions can be asked there, but I will remove abusive posts. _(Readers in Germany, Austria, and Switzerland will not be able to view the Facebook page. Due to their legal regulations, those countries were excluded from the viewing audience.)_

_Constructive criticism is most welcome – please don't hesitate to tell me what works and what doesn't._

* * *

Pitch had slipped away, leaving the Guardians in a much more somber mood, the depressing thoughts he had left them to contemplate weighing heavily in the air. Conall's shuddering breath filled the room, hiccups wracking his body as he tried to inhale much needed oxygen through his tears. Bare feet padded across the floor, the soft slap of steps resonating in the room. Kneeling down in front of the young boy, Jack gently reached out to him, wiping away the flowing tears. Raising his bloodshot eyes, the young boy met the winter spirit's sad gaze.

As he stared into those frightened but hopeful eyes, the white haired spirit could not help but recall the same look staring back at him from the brown eyes of the first boy to ever see him. The same terror reflected back at him from Conall's piercing gaze brought him to the realization that he could no longer allow himself to wallow in pity. He had wandered the globe for three centuries without relying on the belief of a single child. The children of the world could ill-afford for him to wallow in the mire of self-pity in which he had been so content to indulge.

Resolved to focus on the children whose interests he had been created to protect, he allowed a smile to spread slowly over his face. Exhaling slowly, the ice wielder used the moisture from his breath to form small crystals in the air. The tiny ice pellets started to drop, their momentum only halted by the youngest guardian's frigid hands catching them in their descent. A small spark traveled from his finger to each of the droplets, the energy causing them to rise from his palm once more. The frozen globules of water bumped against each other, their behavior bringing a small grin to the little boy's face.

Leaning his back against the wall next to the window, Bunnymund watched the interaction, his lips gently quirking upward. The older brother approached quietly, the rabbit's ears twitching with each step Piers took. He said nothing as he leaned against the wall beside the pooka, both of them content to watch the mischief maker's antics. The younger brother's giggles peppered the air, his mood quickly lightening after the ominous proclamation the nightmare king had delivered. In the grand scheme, the hare mused, Jack's actions might mean little in defeating Annis. At this moment, however, they were everything to one little boy. A slight cough to his right caused him to turn his head as he raised an eyebrow.

"What do you plan to do?"

"Dunno yet, mate." The silence lingered between them as they watched the others. Tooth's fairies were flitting about the pair, flying in circles through the sculptured ice Jack created. A smirk quirked the hare's lips as one of the pixies smacked into an ice figure as it was being formed, playing at fainting. Its still fluttering wings exposed the ruse, as did the wink the tiny fairy bestowed on the boy when the ice wielder deliberately looked the other way. Despite being a completely impromptu display, the entire scene could have been choreographed. The memory guardian's infatuation with the winter spirit's perfect teeth had apparently allowed him to develop an ability to seamlessly communicate with the small nymphs in her employ.

Bunnymund's brow furrowed slightly as he mulled over the apparent behavior. He was not certain that it could help them in a battle against the harridan, but it could prove useful if either Piers or Conall could be counted on to identify the spice their grandmother had used against Annis. The hare turned his full attention to the older boy, studying the wistful smile that spread over the mortal's young face. Unfortunately, the events in Piers' life seemed to be forcing him to be growing up far too quickly. The pooka fervently hoped that they would be able to return a bit of carefree abandon to the boy's life.

"Would you be able to identify the spice?"

Startled, the boy jumped slightly before turning to face the overly tall lagomorph. "Pardon?"

"If you went to the grocer's, could you identify the spice?"

Shaking his head slightly, Piers frowned. "Not by its appearance. Conall and I could both give a fair guess by the taste, but gran always shoos us out of the kitchen when she's baking."

"Hm." The rabbit considered the news. While not entirely as positive as he had hoped, it certainly did not obliterate the idea fermenting in his mind. Pushing off from the wall, he walked over to North and Sandy. As he examined the dust images the dream weaver was forming, he concluded that they were considering the same plan that had occurred to him. Seeing the sand image of the spice bag the boys' grandmother had used followed by one of the boys, Bunnymund decided to announce his presence. "Too right."

The Australian laughed outright at the startled jump Sandy gave, completely dissolving his dust models before spinning around and shaking a finger at the pooka in irritation. Chuckling, North placed a hand on the ancient guardian's shoulder. "He is just offering his opinion, Sandy."

Unappeased, the glittering spirit used his sand to form unflattering images of rabbits sneaking through tall grasses. As the sand-bunnies came to the edge of the field, a farmer's garden came into view. Skittering across the cultivated dirt, the hares of the dust-image kicked up soil from the guardian as they burrowed underneath the ripened food before pouncing on unsuspecting vegetables. North could not suppress his chuckle as the image focused on a single carrot, showing it faint as the lagomorphs approached it from behind.

"That's hardly fair, mate." Sandy raised a single eyebrow, to which the pooka responded with a cheeky grin. "I'd never try to eat you the way that bunny's chowing on that veggie." Glancing back at the sand image, the dream weaver frowned, waving a hand through the picture to cause it to dissipate. Shaking his head in amusement, the hare tried to refocus their attention on the matter at hand. "I just meant we had the same thought. Piers says he would know the taste of the spice, even if he didn't know it on sight." The older boy nodded when North and Sandy glanced to him for confirmation.

"Khorosho. We will take them with us to find some of this any seed. But how do we distract young mat'? She is bound to be wanting to keep boys in sight."

"No worries. We only need to borrow Piers for this, so we'll only have to run interference for one of them." A mischievous grin spread across Bunnymund's face as he turned to face Toothiana. "Sheila, we're going to need your fairies to go play outside with Jack." The tiny pixies looked up at the pooka in confusion with the ice wielder following suit.

* * *

Unable to find what they were looking for in the first three shops, Piers was beginning to feel a little hopeless. The plan had been a relatively simple one. Toothiana happily carried him from shop to shop, her hummingbird wings making their travel swifter than any car in which he had personally ridden. Once they found the right substance, he would purchase a small amount to take back so the others would know which spice they should be seeking. Unfortunately, all of the stores to which Tooth had taken him had only sold ground spices. He had known the taste would be different from the whole seeds his grandmother favored, but none of the ones he had tried so far had even come close.

After the third failed shop, he had convinced Tooth to carry him over to the next town. Four shops and several irate store clerks later, they were still unable to obtain any of the sought-after seasoning. Piers would have readily admitted that he was beginning to lose hope in their chances of success. As a result, he was exceedingly thankful when Tooth noticed the spice shop as she sped them through the town.

Rolling his eyes at hearing the bell over the door chime when he entered, the elder of the two brothers could not help the slight fatigue that infused his manner as he approached the counter. As a result of his weariness, his speech was slightly slurred when he spoke to the young lady standing behind the counter. His query for the apparently elusive 'any seed' finally garnered him a response other than complete confusion.

"What do you need the spice for?"

The question effectively energized him. He stood straighter, nearly bouncing on his feet as he dared to hope. "So you have some?"

"Anise seed? Sure. But if you just want it for cooking, the powder is better." Piers was so happy that she seemed to know what he was talking about that he dared not question her assertion. She smiled broadly at him as she went to the back to grab a pound bag of the spice.

"I know this will seem an odd request, but..." His voice trailed slightly as he tried to decide the best way to phrase his question. "It's just, my gran sent me after it, and I want to make sure I get the right thing. Could I taste a small amount of it?" She did give him an odd look, but agreed to his request. Using a one-eighth teaspoon measuring utensil, she gently opened the bag and scooped out a small amount. He opened his palm, watching with continued hope as she slowly measured the fine powder into his open hand. Lifting the appendage to his face, he sniffed delicately. He gingerly extended his tongue, tasting the substance. A smile spread fully over his face. "That's it!" His elation caused the clerk to giggle a bit as she totaled his purchase. Handing over the funds to pay for the bag – which far exceeded their expectation on amount – he thanked her profusely for her assistance before leaving the store.

"That's it then?" The fairy's voice bubbled with barely contained joy. When Piers nodded she squealed loudly before picking him up and carrying them back to his house as quickly as her wings would take them.

* * *

Their success in obtaining the coveted spice was celebrated for a scant few seconds before the group set about determining the best way to use the powder. Several minutes of deliberation ultimately resulted in the conclusion that small pouches carried by Toothiana's fairies would likely provide them the best coverage, ensuring that should Annis attempt to flee from them as they attacked her, she would not be able to run far from the airborne pixies.

As they had debated, the boys had been dividing the powder into smaller sachets, including an amount for their grandmother. The tiny fairies picked up the packets, chirping to each other as the Guardians discussed their roles. After numerous variants were proposed and one solid plan was finally agreed upon by the group, a soft voice posed the question that they had studiously avoided discussing in front of the boys.

"How do we lure her to us?"

Bunnymund rose from his crouched position, walking over to Conall. Squatting down to be eye level with the young boy, his voice was somber as he responded. "_You_ will not be present." His eyes cut quickly to Piers. "Neither of you. We won't risk a child's life just to draw her out."

"It's the best chance you've got!" The younger brother's emphatic outburst was punctuated by the tears rolling down his cheeks. The hand that landed on the pooka's furred shoulder was a boon to him. The hare stepped aside without hesitation, glad that someone else was willing to address the difficult issue.

"Conall, listen to me." Jack's voice was gentle as his cerulean gaze captured the boy's own. "Annis is not someone that you trifle with."

"I'm not afraid!" The younger brother's chest puffed outward with the forceful statement. Knowing that delicacy was of the utmost importance, the white haired guardian took the boy's hand in his own, patting it gently before he responded.

"I know you're not. And I know Piers isn't either. But your mother is." Conall's shoulders slumped slightly. "So is your grandmother. They don't want to lose you – _either_ of you. There are so many parents who have lost children, and there is no need to add either of you to that number."

Toothiana cleared her throat behind him. "How do we find her, though? It's a valid point."

The ice wielder's brow furrowed as he considered how he could tell them he had been thinking about the nightmare king's words earlier without sounding more conceited than they likely already thought him to be. Finally shrugging, he resigned himself to simply making his point regardless of the consequences. "Do you remember when Pitch was here earlier, talking about how _he _didn't have my essence and couldn't make my hand whole?"

"Da. What is point, Jack?"

"Well, if the boogeyman doesn't own that missing piece of me, then it must still be within Annis." Forming sand images, the dream weaver summed up the winter spirit's intent. "That's right, Sandy. I don't know if it'll work, but it's the best shot we've got, I think." The ancient guardian nodded sadly. Clapping him on the back, North tacitly agreed to the proposal. Toothiana nibbled on her lower lip as she debated any other possible alternatives. Not able to determine a better solution, she gave him a brief nod. Bunnymund glared at each of them, eyes narrowed dangerously as he approached Jack.

He shook his head emphatically. "No. I won't agree." Exchanging glances, Piers and Conall quietly rose and exited the room, taking their grandmother's sachet back to the kitchen. "If you do have a connection and she tries to kill you for tracking her using it? What then? What if she succeeds? I..." The rabbit's voice trailed off as a single tear dampened the fur of his left cheek.

Giving the hare a sad smile, Jack used the pad of his thumb to smooth the salty water from his companion's fur. "It's not about me. Remember?"

The pooka scoffed. "And since when do you take advice from the likes of Pitch Black?"

"For once, I think he has a point. When Jamie stopped believing, I was devastated. I felt lost, and I wondered what the point was. If they're going to grow out of us, why bother? And that's something else he had right – we don't stop caring about them when they no longer remember us." Sighing, he let himself give the rabbit a sturdy hug. "It's not about us. It's about the kids. It's _always_ been about them. I just lost sight of that for a while."

Having been listening outside the door, the two brothers smiled, and nodded, tiptoeing away as quietly as they could. They reached the main hallway of their modest home in time to hear their grandmother's return. She muttered about it getting dark too quickly as she made her way to the kitchen. They both noticed that her hands were empty and hoped she would be pleased by her surprise. Neither expected the quiet squeak that had erupted as she opened the sachet. It was followed quickly by a loud sigh, and the sound of their highly sought-after spice being dumped into the garbage bin.

"If I've told her once, I've told her a hundred times." The voice carried through to them as they remained hidden in the shadows of the hallway. "Star anise isn't the same thing as aniseed, and no matter what those store clerks say, you _can't_ substitute." Exchanging a worried glance, the two boys ran quickly back to Conall's room, arriving just as the magic portal bearing the Guardians away closed.

* * *

It had surprised them all when Jack's first attempt at locating Annis had resulted in immediately pinpointing the witch. His shocked gasp as he could see an image of her when he focused on the harridan concerned the group. Unsure as to whether the youngest guardian could be used by the hag to find their location, they determined to debate that issue at a later time. The sun was just setting. She would immediately be ready to seek a meal, something they could not allow.

Tooth's fairies scooped up their sachets, the bags weighing them down slightly. When Jack described the location he could clearly see in his mind's eye, North knew instantly where to take them. He had not realized that the boys had stumbled on her lair near that canal. As the ice wielder had not seen the area with any amount of precision – even the waterway had been murky to his eyes – he was completely oblivious to the fact that they had previously stood in the very spot they found themselves transported by the magic globe, prepared to hopefully defeat Annis.

When she emerged from the cave, the pixies did not wait for any commands. They dive-bombed the witch, spice packets exploding on impact and covering her in a fine powder. She coughed a bit, but was otherwise unaffected by the seasoning peppering the air. Waving a hand in front of her face in order to clear some of the dust from the air, she smiled maliciously as her eyes landed on Jack.

"Foolish boy. Almost as bad as that mortal. The Chinese plant is _nothing_ like the Mediterranean one." Her tongue clucked in mock chiding as she slowly shook her head. "You poor deluded fool." She launched herself at him, her talons slicing into the wood of the staff as he held it out to defend himself. Turning the weapon in his grasp slightly so that its end was aimed at the vile hag, he jabbed with it, connecting soundly with her abdomen. The witch doubled over, gasping. When she straightened once more, the anger she felt towards him was palpable. Jack grinned, the act earning him a snarl from the livid harridan.

"I'll let you in on a little secret, Annis."

"What do I care for your intrigues?" Her voice dripped with disdain, even as she wheezed against the pain, trying to recover her breath.

"Well, it's not really a secret anyway." Twirling his staff, he thrust the butt of the shepherd's crook against the ground once more. The shaft of the weapon glowed an eerie fluorescent cyan, clashing slightly with the shade of his eyes as they flashed with his ire.

"Oh, what _are_ you blabbering about?" She was finally able to right herself, standing straight as she stared at him.

"It's simple really." Raising his staff, the winter spirit allowed the moisture in his breath to guide him in drawing the moisture from the air, easily forming more of the powdery precipitate at their feet. Slamming the staff against the icy terrain, he steadied himself as the shockwave sent the witch flying from her feet. From her position on her back, she looked up at Jack when he towered over her prone form. His eyes were hard, his face appearing as stone. "I _hate_ you."


	21. You'll Do

_Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians. I make no profit from this work of fiction._

**Many thanks** to sorceresstar – each favorite and alert is appreciated!

**Special thanks **to Bloody-Rozez, Seryyth and snowing-in-the-spring-time – reviews are greatly appreciated.

_Bloody-Rozez – I'm glad you asked your questions! I've given a response on the Facebook page. :)_

_Seryyth – I have composed a response on the Facebook page. I do understand that there are some things that cause us all to nitpick, but there is a difference between the literary and the literal usage of those words._

_snowing-in-the-spring-time – He can indeed! It's one of the things in the movie that actually surprised me when they didn't spend more time on it, but I can understand since they only have so much screen time. I'm glad you're still enjoying the story! :)_

For those who like to use Facebook to follow stories:

w-w-w [d-o-t] facebook [d-o-t] c-o-m /pages/RogueMudblood/684906514892205

Questions can be asked there, but I will remove abusive posts. _(Readers in Germany, Austria, and Switzerland will not be able to view the Facebook page. Due to their legal regulations, those countries were excluded from the viewing audience.)_

_Constructive criticism is most welcome – please don't hesitate to tell me what works and what doesn't._

* * *

The declaration had made her laugh. As though one spirit's opinion mattered at all to her. Letting him have a sense of triumph, she chose not to rise from her place in the snow. A peculiar sensation had come over her as he towered there. She had the impression of an invisible connection existing between her and the white haired spirit. Disregarding the affinity she had felt for him given their mutual rapport with the winter elements, she still sensed some attachment to the youngest guardian.

Though Pitch had gone to great lengths to tell her about his 'near escape' following his battle with the Guardians, she had always felt he had embellished a bit on the danger they had posed. Her assumption was justified by the inaction of the others as Jack stood over her. It was clear that they were all waiting for her to weigh her options. Likely they expected her to surrender. Outnumbered and sure to be hungry, they likely figured she would just capitulate. She briefly considered a false armistice as it could easily allow her to slip away at a later time. Reneging on the agreement would certainly not diminish her position in their eyes, nor would it be the first time someone had failed to honor a détente.

Ultimately it was her curiosity with respect to the mysterious link seemingly connecting her to the ice wielder that influenced her actions. Just as he had called forth a tidal wave of elemental fury by channeling his energy through his staff, so Annis prepared to do. Bracing her hands against the ground, the snow falling thickly over them, the evil witch concentrated on pushing her essence into the earth beneath her. Though the elements were sluggish in responding to her, the few seconds that passed between Jack's announcement and his understanding of her intent were all she needed.

It did not escape her notice that he could apparently feel the energy she expended. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at him. His own orbs widened as he felt the rumbling underneath his feet. When his eyes glanced downward, she took the provided opportunity to rise to her feet. Drained from using her essence in such a manner, she wobbled a bit. The fairies which had pelted her with the dull, brick-colored dust had rallied around their mistress, their rapidly buzzing wings creating a slight breeze. Extending her hand outward, palm upward with only her forefinger extended, she crooked the clawed phalanx in an attempt to coax the air to her will. Feeling it bend and approach, she smiled in malicious delight.

Misinterpreting her gesture, Bunnymund drew his boomerangs, firing both towards the witch. "You want it, sheila? You got it!" The first hit its mark, cracking soundly against her outstretched hand. Hissing from the pain as she felt several small bones break, Annis reached up and snatched the second wooden projectile from the air. The rabbit's eyes widened momentarily before narrowing as he bounded toward her, snow flying into the air as his feet displaced it.

Cackling laughter echoed about them when his body collided with hers. The wind she had cajoled into her service carried her further from him than was the hare's intent, the momentum of his attack covering the act. Kneeling, she allowed her hair to cover her face, the blue hue of her skin providing an icier appearance. One knee poised beneath her and the other foot flat against the ground, she appeared to push against the frozen dirt beneath her. Instead, her talons sunk into the soil, siphoning the small amount of her essence with which she had so recently infused it. The crack of nearby trees as their life was sapped from them effectively covered the noise of the frozen surface of the canal behind her breaking apart.

Stepping forward, Jack used the moisture in the air to create blocks of ice around her hands, attempting to hold her in place. "You have no minions to aid you, Annis. Your reign of terror ends now." Punctuating the final word with another barrage of snow, the wave's crest crashing against her crouched form created a dome of white around her. Looking up at the ice wielder, she chuckled mirthlessly.

"Does it now?" It was no struggle for her to pull herself from the manufactured winter prison. "I think you've forgotten something, Jack."

"I'm not the only one who seems to have a faulty memory."

Annis' eyes widened in surprise as the winter spirit drew on the moisture from the sluggishly flowing waterway behind her in order to build a wall of ice, effectively removing her most convenient exit. The twinkling chime of crystallized water had drawn her attention to the barrier. Jaw dropping slack in surprise, she was unprepared for the blow to her left cheek from Toothiana's fist. As she staggered to catch her balance, left hand rising to her jaw to rub the forming bruise, she glared at the fairy, placing her back against the solid sheet of ice.

"Going to drop it on me, Jack? Not exactly gentlemanly."

The white haired guardian snorted derisively. "No need to treat you with civility since you can hardly be considered a refined being."

She snarled, launching herself at him. One of the hag's claws entered his left shoulder as their forms collided. The pain from the injury lanced through the ice wielder. His head fell back as a scream of agony ripped from his throat. Annis' wicked smile once more covered her face as Jack's knees buckled. A rush of elation coursed through her veins as she slowly drained his essence from him directly. Untainted by the darkness that permeated the nightmare king, the thrill consuming her senses was wholly different. His immortal energy tasted sweet and tangy, not bitter and rotted like Pitch's had. She reveled in it, savoring each morsel she drew out. Her single-minded concentration on siphoning the winter guardian's core left her unprepared for the unexpected sensation of North's sabre severing her finger at the knuckle. Her unadulterated distress echoed through the lifeless trees of the nearby woods. She withdrew her hand quickly, hissing through her teeth. Raising her head, she glared at the Christmas spirit, confused as to how his weapon had been able to harm her.

The witch's consternation was shared by the jolly guardian. Staring at the cossack blade in utter shock, he somewhat resembled a gawping fish. She sneered at him, preparing to charge him. Recovering from the jarring effect of his sword penetrating her form, North raised the weapon as she headed for him, prepared to skewer her. With the momentum that carried her forward, she knew she would not be able to halt her advance in time to avoid the sabre. Calling to the wind once more, she reveled in how well it responded with Jack's energy flowing through her being. Using the elemental force to propel herself over the Russian, she saw the gleaming tip of the sharp blade as it passed within centimeters of her remaining eye.

Letting her injured hand fall to her side as she landed, she was hardly prepared for the bruising force of the dream weaver's sand train. Whether he had been waiting for her to be in an open area or simply for his fellow guardians to not be collateral damage, Annis was unsure. The one thing that was clear to her was that she needed to end this. Pushing herself up from the snow, shaking the precipitate from her face as she rose to her knees, she briefly mused that it would be a simple matter to let them ice over the mouth of her cave with her inside while she clawed herself another entrance. The only thing preventing her from taking that easy path was the fact that the witch simply did not want to give them the brief satisfaction that they would derive from thinking that they had defeated her.

Hands still surrounded by the white powder, she drew on her connection to the winter elements. She could not remember a time when the earth's decay had not bent to her will. The season marked a time of death, ice and snow working together to create frozen tundras of melancholy. Children playing in the wintry weather after dark had often fallen prey to her in times long past. Her affinity for the cold and all its accoutrements was apparent. Annis threw her head back as she stared past the other four, focusing on the injured mischievous youth.

"Do you know what you forgot yet, Jack?" She watched as the winter spirit rose from the ground pressing a hand to his shoulder. His glare bespoke his hatred for her. She chuckled as she continued to goad him. "I'm just as much in touch with the winter as you are."

The anger that infused the normally convivial ice wielder felt like fire rushing through his veins. Cyan sparks arced from his fingertips as he allowed the emotion to overwhelm him. Bellowing his rage, he froze the air around her, encasing her in a block of ice. The malicious smile fixed on her features enraged him further, causing him to call forth a torrent of snow. The powdery substance fell over the cube, obscuring it fully from their sight. Drained from the outburst, Jack fell to his knees on the white plain, his panting breaths evidence of his exertion.

"Good onya, mate. Except now we haveta uncover her."

"Why bother?" Though his voice was strained, the ice wielder's question was heard clearly by each of the others. Upset by his attitude, the wind blew snow in his face. Glaring into the nether, Jack sighed. "All right. Just... Give me a minute. Can we at least leave her in the ice block?" North crossed his arms over his chest, one eyebrow raised. Sandy's hands were on his hips as his narrowed eyes stared at his comrade in displeasure. The miniature tooth fairies buzzed about his head in disdain of his suggestion. Batting them away, the mischief maker capitulated. "Okay, okay! Sheesh."

"Don't you worry none, mate. Between the five of us, we'll be able to herd her back into that cave and keep her there until we can find the right spice." The lagomorph gathered up his boomerangs as he spoke, sheathing them once more. When he walked around to the back of the snow drift, the hare noticed the furrow in the earth, just under the blanket of snow. Seeing the hole at the base of the icy prison the youngest guardian had created, he frowned. "Nevermind, mate. She's flown the coop."

"How is that possible?" Toothiana's voice bordered on shrill as she quickly flitted over to verify the rabbit's observation. She rocketed upward, trying to catch sight of the witch. Unable to see anything but snow-covered ground, she landed once again, pacing in agitation.

Throwing his head back in frustration, Jack groaned. "I can't _believe_ I fell for it."

"Chto?" North's brow was furrowed in confusion as he tried to determine the mischief maker's meaning.

Rubbing the back of his neck as he let his head fall forward, the ice wielder looked at each of them sheepishly. "She can control the winter elements. She set a trap, knowing I would react in anger after she attacked me. I walked right into it."

* * *

The hospital had been stifling. It was one thing for Libby to think she was not completely sane. She could also understand her mother's concern over her mental state and agreement to admit her to the facility for evaluation. What she could not reconcile was why she had to be locked in a room and denied the ability to walk outside.

Maisie had simply had enough of it. When they came to give her the medicine, she waited by the door. As the cart pushed through, she reached her hand onto the door frame, poking her head out a bit and giving the night's assigned visitor a broad smile. Moving her hand to the door, she pulled it open wider, gesturing for him to enter. Taken aback by the friendly demeanor of a patient he had been told was surly and uncooperative, he smiled back, never noticing the thick paper she had attached to the side of the door with chewing gum. Directly underneath the latch for the door lock, the gum peeking just over the top would hopefully catch the metal as it was pushed back in, keeping the lock from bolting completely.

She took the pill cup, swallowing the medicine. Knowing she would have about an hour before the drugs began to maker her drowsy, she handed the empty cup back and climbed into bed, grabbing a book to deter conversation. Shaking his head, the orderly simply backed the cart out of the room, not noticing as he made his was down the hall that the door had not fully closed.

Waiting for him to enter the next room was an excruciating process for the young girl. The paper thin walls alerted her to his location within a few minutes as the patient he was trying to medicate began screaming and yelling. Maisie smiled as she quickly rose from the bed, slipping the hospital gown over her head to reveal her street clothes.

She cracked open the door only a bit, making sure there was no one in the hallway who could ambush her before she made good her escape. It was not as though she intended to run away or lead them on a merry chase. She only wanted a bit of fresh air. Their 'considered medical opinion' was that she would not benefit from it, and so she had been denied a walk outside.

Determining that she would be able to make it to the elevator without incident, she stepped out of her room. She pulled the door to, not quite letting it latch, before sprinting to the lift. Pushing the button a bit more forcefully than she needed to, she tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for the indicator signaling its arrival to light. After what seemed to her mind to be hours of tortuous delay, the car finally appeared. Quickly stepping in, she was glad to see it was empty. She pushed the button for the ground floor, glimpsing the orderly coming around the corner just as the doors slid closed.

She paced the confined space as she waited for the lift to open once again. Darting from the tiny box that had borne her downstairs as soon as the portal slid apart, she raced to the main entrance. A smile lit Maisie's young face as she stepped out into the clear air once more. Though she knew she had only been in the hospital a very short time, the stale feel of it made the passage of time comparable to eons.

For the first time in a long while, she twirled about as the snow fell, arms stretched upward to the sky, reveling in the beauty of the falling precipitation. Enraptured by the long denied pleasure of the simple and not sterilized open air, she took no note of the hunched figure approaching her. Letting her arms drop to her sides, she stayed in front of the infirmary doors, not wanting to wander off into the night. Closing her eyes, Maisie smiled as she felt the light at her back an the cool snow-filled air in front of her.

Strong fingers closing about her arm had her opening her eyes. As she took in the horrifying visage staring down into her face, she inhaled a large gulp of air, preparing to scream. The clawed hand closing about her throat effectively silenced her, only a small squeak passing through her lips. Pulling her head back as far as she could when the terrifying woman leaned toward her, she fervently wished she had simply accepted their edict. Maisie had no doubt that the single silver orb trying to pierce her soul belonged to the witch Annis. Her dismay was palpable as the witch spoke.

"I'm famished after that row with Jack." The eye slid closed as the hag inhaled. "Fear is such a sweet scent." Eye popping back open, the evil spirit let a hideous grin form on her face. Opening her mouth as she prepared to consume the child's soul, her whispered words burned themselves into the young girl's mind.

"_You'll do."_


	22. I Hate Myself

_Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians. I make no profit from this work of fiction._

**Many thanks** to Robin Stories and katie. – each favorite and alert is appreciated!

**Special thanks **to Bloody-Rozez, snowing-in-the-spring-time and WatUCWatIC – reviews are greatly appreciated!

_Bloody-Rozez – I am glad that you're still enjoying the story, and I hope the chapter doesn't disappoint! I've left you a response on the Facebook page, as usual. :)_

_snowing-in-the-spring-time – I'm glad I could make you smile. :) And I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long. ;)_

_WatUCWatIC – I sent you a PM. If there's something I can clarify, please do let me know. :)_

For those who like to use Facebook to follow stories:

w-w-w [d-o-t] facebook [d-o-t] c-o-m /pages/RogueMudblood/684906514892205

Questions can be asked there, but I will remove abusive posts. _(Readers in Germany, Austria, and Switzerland will not be able to view the Facebook page. Due to their legal regulations, those countries were excluded from the viewing audience.)_

_Constructive criticism is most welcome – please don't hesitate to tell me what works and what doesn't._

* * *

Some days, David really hated his job. When he got to work and saw his assigned rotation was the observation floor, he had become positively perky. There were no bed pans to change, and most of the patients did not require intravenous medications. Reviewing the patient sheets, he had only paused at the one with some concern for being given a rough time. The young girl was apparently seeing a six-foot tall blue rabbit... Blinking rapidly, the orderly rubbed his eyes before reading the patient's complaint again. The doctor's notes showed that otherwise she seemed perfectly healthy. She showed no other breaks with reality – she was aware of the date, the current monarch, and could even name the prime minister. His eyebrows rose at that note. He knew several adults who were unable to identify the nation's political leaders.

There was a note that she had been giving the nurses a hard time. Reading that, David had sighed. So when he had pushed the cart laden down with medication into her room, he had been pleasantly surprised by her demeanor. It had not occurred to him to question her affability. In hindsight, he realized he should have. When he had come back out of the next room, he had caught a glimpse of the elevator doors closing. His eyes narrowed as he stepped into the moonlight streaming in through the hallway window. Running a hand through his short-cropped hair, he shook his head. As it swiveled towards her door, he noticed it was ajar. Cursing under his breath, he headed for the emergency stairwell. He would not make it to the ground floor before her, but he certainly would be close behind.

By the time he had reached the ground floor, David was panting. Making a resolution to spend more time at the gym, he slowly pushed open the stairwell door. He stopped to catch his breath, leaning against the wall. The moonlight pouring in through the glass front doors seemed brighter than he recalled it being a few moments earlier. It seemed to be beckoning him towards the entrance. Knowing he needed to go that way to see if the girl was at least still within sight, he pushed himself upright. As he straightened up, the angle of the light changed, silhouetting a female in apparent distress just on the other side of the glass.

Rushing towards the doors, David called out for a gurney and a doctor. His feet slapped against the tile floor loudly, long strides carrying him to the entrance within seconds. Mentally praising technology as the sensor processed his presence and the automatic doors slid open, he rushed out into the cold. The subject of his search was staring skyward, her eyes open but unseeing. The angle of her body suggested someone was holding her up, but he saw no one else. He scooped her into his arms, rushing her back inside just as the gurney was wheeled to the door. Laying her on it, he took a step backwards. With surprising strength, the young girl reached out, her hand clamping on his forearm before he could pull away. Her lips moved, but he could hear no sound. Leaning closer, he asked her to repeat whatever she had said.

Her voice was shaky as she said the witch's name. He had heard many people talking about some ancient legendary hag that stole the souls of children. Frowning at the young girl, he shook his head and let her be wheeled down to the emergency department for examination. They would send her back up to her room once they had diagnosed her. Taking another look through the glass, David almost thought he could make out a wretchedly ugly face snarling at him, but when he blinked, it had vanished once more. He walked back over to the lift station, depressing the button and waiting for the car to arrive.

A mirthless, almost hysterical, chuckle escaped him as he considered his patient's condition. Her skin had been tinged blue, her pulse had been thready, and she had almost been unable to even open her eyes. The lift arrived, and as he stepped into the empty box, he briefly contemplated the possibility that something other than the unseasonably frigid weather had caused the girl's plight. Shaking his head at the fanciful thought, he dismissed the idea. After all, unlike the elder generation spreading old tales and the children who were so willing to believe that a supernatural force was responsible for their present state, David did not believe in fairy tales.

* * *

Pitch had watched from the shadows as they had battled in the clearing. He had almost hoped that Jack would simply knock the witch into the flowing canal and freeze the surface over. When the moonlight had shone on him, nearly revealing him to the combatants, he had glared skyward. "It certainly wouldn't harm the hag to be frozen for a time."

When the ice wielder had flash frozen the half-blind harridan, the nightmare king had smiled. It had quickly turned to a frown once the youngest guardian had caused a deluge of snow to cover the block of ice. The boogeyman had growled in irritation, muttering under his breath, as he saw Annis slide out from the prison. Aggravated by the turn of the battle, he had followed her.

As they came upon the girl standing outside the infirmary, Pitch fervently hoped the child would walk back into the building before the witch could attack her. Unfortunately, his wish was not to be fulfilled. Watching as the harridan began drawing the life from the child, he debated with himself whether to aid her. Arguing internally, the boogeyman was quick to retort that he was not in league with the Guardians any time the growing seed of empathy chose to voice its opinion. His dilemma, internal though it was, apparently caught the attention of his old friend who once more spotlighted him in the moonlight.

"I'm not one of your minions, you know." The light dimmed a bit before brightening once more, a seeming nod from the illuminated path in the snow. "I'm not. I don't do good and _decent _things." The light's pattern repeated. The nightmare king's eyes narrowed. "Of course, if she's dead, she can't have bad dreams, and that's one less child whose belief will give me strength." Bestowing a single firm nod upon the bouncing streak of light that he was sure was laughing at him, he stepped from the shadows only to see a mortal rushing to the girl.

He was shocked at the man's evident lack of belief in Annis. Pitch had been certain that she had managed to manipulate all of the residents of the area, her terrible acts causing them to spread word of her horrid existence even among the adults who were well past the age associated with allegedly outlandish beliefs. Yet even as the boogeyman watched, his jaw falling slack in surprise, the man simply _took_ the child from the witch. His jaw clacked shut noisily, but the harridan only had eyes for the mortals. Realizing the opportunity that had been so fortuitously presented to him, the nightmare king grinned malevolently as he stepped directly behind the ancient spirit.

Taken by surprise, Annis was barely able to extend her hands to halt her momentum before the force pushing on her was able to push her against the glass. She snarled as the man who had so unceremoniously separated her from her breakfast, her eyes narrowing in hatred as he unmistakeably looked through her. The witch had not been so callously dismissed since the times when the mortals actually knew how to keep her at bay.

Pushing against the reflective surface, she propelled her body backward, allowing her to pivot and face her attacker. A malevolent cackle echoed through the street as she recognized the dark spirit. Even though it meant she would still have no breakfast, she was not going to abandon the opportunity to vent all of her frustration. She launched herself toward him, unmindful of the brightening moonlight.

Pitch took full advantage of the elongated shadows his old friend created for him. Using the tendrils, he pulled her to the ground in front of him, the edges of two shadows combining in order to restrain her hands and prevent her talons from connecting with his form. "Now, now. No need to be so disagreeable."

"I'll show you disagreeable." Her muttered words floated to him on the slight breeze. Before he was able to tilt his head backward upon hearing the rushing wind approach, the boogeyman found himself beset by a flood of wet snow. The avalanche caught him unawares, resulting in his concentration being compromised. The shadows effectively charged with containing Annis dissolved completely. Sneering at him once his head poked through the bank of winter dust with which she had trapped him. "Keep trying, Pitch, dear. For the moment, it suits my purpose to leave you alive. Don't waste this gift."

Turning from him, she strolled a little ways from the temporary 'prison' in which she had encased the nightmare king before vanishing in a swirl of air. Inclining his head so that he would be able to see the nighttime celestial orb, Pitch glared at his old friend.

"You know, this _is_ entirely your fault." The light briefly touched his face, questioning his reasoning. "Oh, yes, it is. You a had the bright idea for me to – quite literally – _shadow _her." Light extending up onto his face, forcing him to close his eyes against the brightness, asked how the two were related. "How – ? You know, I was unamused when you suggested it. Now... Now I'm irate! I wouldn't even _be _in this situation if you had bothered, for one single moment, to consider her temperamental tendencies!" Scoffing in disgust, the boogeyman struggled to free himself as the moonlight flickered back and forth. He had no doubt whatsoever that the man in that moon was openly laughing at his predicament.

"I've nothing more to say to you." Finally shaking the white powder off of him, the dark spirit rose to his full height, staring up at the heavens. "Ridiculing me for the outcome of a situation which you tried to engineer. Shameful." The moonlight stretched and ebbed, the gentle sway brushing over his toes. "I'm not a pet to be appeased in such a manner." Dusting himself off, the nightmare king began striding away from the infirmary. The moonlight moved to shine directly on him. "I've no obligation to you, old friend."

Withdrawing the light and leaving the nightmare king in full shadow, the celestial orb seemed to have dimmed significantly. Turning his attention to the sky, Pitch sighed. "There's no need to sulk. You've simply decided on the wrong spirit for the job. I'm no do-gooder." The light brightened slightly as the nightmare king continued to clarify. "Besides, I came here and confronted her when you asked. Even though it turned out that my services were not needed." Flashing brightly, the moon let the dark spirit know exactly how he perceived _that_ sentiment. "Be angry all you want. I'm not here to amuse you."

He turned away once more, fading into the shadows as he made his way out of the clearing. The moonlight filling the streets flourished then ebbed, as though the celestial orb were heaving a great sigh.

* * *

Piers and Conall both stood with their hands behind their backs, heads bowed, and feet scuffing the floor slightly as their mother continued scolding them. When the boys' grandmother had told her she had thrown out the spice, the younger woman had swiveled her head and glared at the two boys sitting calmly at the dinner table as they ate their evening meal. Her anger was palpable, and neither boy really wanted to confront her. Eventually, they were unable to delay the inevitable, and after washing the dishes and cleaning the kitchen, the boys' scolding commenced.

When their mother finally stopped to take a breath, Piers pointed out that only he had gone out without permission. Conall had been home, recuperating as the doctors had instructed. That revelation had a very calming effect on the woman. Though she was still extremely upset with the older brother, she was no longer quite as livid. Part of the reason for her ire had been the thought that Piers had exhibited callous disregard for his sibling's well-being. Knowing that the younger boy had been home safe appeased her slightly, and she sent Conall to his room.

Pulling out a chair, she asked Piers to sit, taking a deep breath as she proceeded to discuss the issue with him. The older boy was quite forthcoming about his adventures, explaining about each of the shops he had visited as well as the trip to a neighboring town. That part had her almost purple as she suppressed the urge to yell at him. Once he had finished, she took several calming breaths before finally asking him _why _he had felt the need to put himself in such jeopardy. His response had been simple – his grandmother had said she needed something. For him that was enough reason to risk his mother's wrath. He had even spent his own allowance in order to try to purchase the spice.

Silence had fallen over the room as she weighed everything before making a decision as to his punishment. Even with good intentions, he had proven that she could not trust him on his own, and could not trust him alone with only his brother in the house. An offhand comment that they were low on milk could send him to the store to get some, leaving the younger boy without anyone to watch over him. That was unacceptable to her, and she let him know that. She finally decided on grounding him, taking away television privileges. Those had been few to begin with, so the loss would not affect him greatly.

She had sent him to his room after he had apologized. She could tell he had not meant to scare her, but Piers needed to know that he had obligations that he needed to maintain. Her eldest son had given her a somewhat wry smile when she made the statement, but gave her no argument, retreating to his room.

He had noted immediately that one shadow was thicker than the others. Shutting the door quickly, Piers had insisted that the nightmare king show himself. Amused that the mortal thought he had the authority to issue any type of demand to him, Pitch had stepped forward. His left hand was closed tightly, and the spirit squeezing that appendage only drew the boy's attention to it.

"What are you trying to hide?" Piers' eyes were narrowed in suspicion as he watched the shifty spirit move about the room just out of the reach of the shadows.

A malicious smile spread over the nightmare king's face. "I am quite curious as to whether it does what it should, you know." The boy's eyes never left him, his body pivoting as Pitch made a full circle around the room. "Do you want to find out?"

"No. I want you to leave."

Frowning, the boogeyman stood still. "You're no fun." Piers shrugged, completely indifferent as to the dark spirit's opinion of him. "Oh, fine." Opening his hand, palm upward, he revealed a single seed. The dusky yellow kernel had a shape similar to a shelled sunflower seed. Shaking his head slightly, the boy conveyed his lack of understanding. "_This_ is the spice you need." The boy reached into the ancient spirit's hand, gently picking the tiny seed from it. Content that he had concluded the business asked of him by his old friend, Pitch faded back into the shadows. Before he had completely left the room, his sibilant voice floated back to the boy.

"I feel sick. I'm turning into … a _good _guy. Ugh. Right now, I hate myself."


	23. Remind Me

_Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians. I make no profit from this work of fiction._

_For those who are familiar with Leicester Royal Infirmary, please be mindful that this is completely imaginary. Though I'm using the name of a place that exists in a real city, depictions herein are **entirely fictional**._

**Special thanks **to snowing-in-the-spring-time – reviews are greatly appreciated!

_snowing-in-the-spring-time – I'm pleased that you enjoyed it. :) And he does encourage the development of bravery, doesn't he? Though, it's more an unwanted side effect of his natural inclinations. ;)_

_Guest – I did pass on your information. Incidentally, you should be able to message my page on Facebook, if you'd prefer._

For those who like to use Facebook to follow stories:

w-w-w [d-o-t] facebook [d-o-t] c-o-m /pages/RogueMudblood/684906514892205

Questions can be asked there, but I will remove abusive posts. _(Readers in Germany, Austria, and Switzerland will not be able to view the Facebook page. Due to their legal regulations, those countries were excluded from the viewing audience.)_

_Constructive criticism is most welcome – please don't hesitate to tell me what works and what doesn't._

* * *

Piers walked into the kitchen, the aroma of frying sausages wafting through the house. He grinned as he watched his grandmother rotate the links in the skillet. Without turning to see who had entered, she asked him to set the table. He chuckled, moving to the cabinet to pull out the breakfast plates and flatware. Handing her one for the sausages as he passed back by, he quietly went about the assigned chore. The sound of eggs sizzling as they hit the pan brought his attention back to the older woman standing over the welcoming heat of the stove.

Taking the full sausage plate from her and placing it on the table, he leaned against the sturdy surface as he waited for breakfast to be finished. Turning off the burner and carrying the skillet over to the table, his grandmother deftly divided the cooked eggs between the four plates. Conall wandered in just as she set the empty pan back on the stove. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, the younger boy took a seat at the table. Piers laughed as his brother greeted him with a yawn and a wave, taking a fork and serving both of them from the sausage plate.

His fork still poised above the plate, he turned to the older woman as she sat down across from him. "One or two, Gran?"

"Just one for now, Piers." Nodding, he placed the link on her dish. "Thank you."

"Welcome." They ate their breakfast for several minutes in silence, occasionally glancing at the empty seat the boys' mother usually occupied. Setting his fork down when it seemed clear his mother would not be coming to breakfast, Piers reached into his pocket. He pulled out the tiny seed that had been left with him the night before, placing it gently on the table next to his grandmother's napkin. Its dusky yellow color contrasted sharply with the grey hue of their aged ash wood furniture. Both boys noticed that their grandmother's eyes widened slightly as she gently lay her fork back down on her plate.

"Where … ?" She looked up into the elder boy's face, her eyes wide with the hope of having found a source of the elusive spice.

Not quite prepared to answer her on how he had obtained the seed, Piers attempted to distract her from that line of thought. "Can you tell us why it's so important?"

Her hand shook slightly as she lifted her water glass to her lips to take a long sip. A ring of condensation marked the spot on the table that had held the cup. The cool water continued dripping from the bottom edge of the glass as she held it, the droplets landing perilously close to the small seed. Returning her beverage to the table, she took a steadying breath as she regarded both boys.

Soft, dulcet tones filled the room as she spoke. "Many, _many_ years ago, there was a ceremony that was observed without fail. In those days, beginning in late September until Easter Monday, any household with a child would keep fresh bay leaves or sprigs of freshly cut rosemary hanging above the window. Families would grow their own spice gardens where they could, and pay the town magistrate a fee for use of his when they couldn't. Over the years, both plants became known in a grouping as witches' herbs."

Picking up her water glass, she took another slow sip, taking the time to wipe up the ring of water droplets on the table before setting the cup back down. Grasping the tiny seed between her forefinger and thumb, she lifted it to eye level, letting her elbow rest on the tabletop. "I won't bore you kids with the history lesson of how and where the ritual came from. But this tiny little seed comes from a plant that exemplifies the continuation of life. Over time, elements were added to the ceremony. Unnecessary things that only served to bring the community out in support of the current magistrate."

Returning the spice to the table, she rose, taking her plate to the sink. "Parts of the ritual were altered. Important details were omitted. Winter became longer – and harsher – over time. Those who knew how to seal away the winter witch moved away, or died without children. The traditions died out. Sightings of the hag became fewer – or at least reports of seeing her. She was relegated to an old wives' tale."

Conall stood as well, taking his plate to her. He was impatient for answers, knowing his grandmother had information on what to do to end this terrifying winter. "But what does the spice have to do with anything?"

She chuckled a bit, ruffling his hair. "Quite right. I did get off track, didn't I?" Piers smiled as his younger brother nodded his head vigorously. "Anise promotes good health. Including helping someone to sleep." Turning from the boys she began washing up the dishes. "Piers, do be a dear and bring me your plate." She began humming to herself as she cleaned, clearly considering the discussion ended.

* * *

Pitch hated to think of himself as sulking. The fact that he had been sitting in a shadowy spot on the roof of the Royal Infirmary since daybreak with his chin resting on his fist and his back hunched did not mean he was _sulking_. It only meant he enjoyed positions which were uncomfortable in places where he fully expected his nemeses to eventually show.

If he were truthful with himself, he would admit that he wanted them to tell him that they had magically defeated her during the night and that she was now sleeping soundly. Pessimist that he was, the nightmare king highly doubted that the group of do-gooders had managed to talk to that boring child and get the seed. Of course, it wouldn't help them, of itself. One tiny little seed was not going to cure their ills and rejuvenate England. Sighing again, he changed positions, leaning fully against the wall and stretching his legs in front of him. His head jerked up when the door to the roof slammed open, startling him with the abrupt change from the near silence that had surrounded him.

The young girl from the night before came into view, seated in a wheelchair. Her arms were resting on the armrest, hands lying in her lap. A female orderly came into view, her hands on the rear handles of the chair as she pushed it forward. "Your doctor really isn't happy about this. But after what you did last night, he agreed to let you come up here. Given the episode you had, the order is for _only _ten minutes." Setting the chair's brake, the orderly walked back to the door, leaving the child parked in the middle of the roof.

Once the door slammed again, the girl rose from the chair, stretching her arms above her head and bending slightly backwards to work the kinks out of her spine. A small wistful smile seemed to be pasted on her face as she walked about the flat, paved roof for a minute, simply enjoying the feel of being outside. Just as he was losing interest in her, the child turned to face him. "So. You're the boogeyman." His eyes widened as she spoke. "You really don't look all that menacing right now. Though, after looking death in the eye last night, not much seems to be overly threatening."

The dark spirit snorted. "I suppose not."

She stepped closer to him, crouching so that she could better see him. She simply stared at him. More than a minute passed in silence between them, her unwavering gaze fixed on him. He began to shift about a bit, uncomfortable with her scrutiny. Finally she blinked, straightening from her squatting position. "You know, it's not even that Annis is more powerful than you." His eyes narrowed as she managed to touch on some of his own musings. "After all, she's geographically limited."

"Are you so sure of that?"

The girl gave an indelicate snort. "I don't have much to do in this place _but _watch the news. I'm more than aware that it's only our country that's experiencing a bizarre winter relapse." Pitch had to smirk at the phrasing she used. Knowing that she had distracted him slightly, she stepped away from him, walking around the roof a bit, and making certain to stay in broad patches of sunlight. "There are other things too. She might be older than you, but something has limited her until now, so I'm betting there's a way to counter her. And I'm certain that the Ice King –"

"Jack Frost." Pitch's voice cut cleanly through her speech.

"Pardon?"

"His name." The dark spirit rose, towering over the young girl even as he kept to the shadows several feet distant. "He's not a monarch. He has no subjects. His name is simply Jack Frost."

Her broad smile caused her eyes to dance with mischief that was far too familiar to the nightmare king. "Rankles a bit, does it?" She responded to his sneer with laughter. "You're wrong though. He does have subjects." Seeing his incredulous look, she grinned. "What else would you call the ice and snow?" He snarled as he abandoned the rooftop, determined not to acknowledge her statement.

Alone with her thoughts, Maisie sat back down in the chair, a grin still present on her face. Perhaps the master of fear had needed the observation to be made aloud. Regardless, as she enjoyed the remainder of her allotted time out of her room, she did have to admit that it had been fun to rile the spirit.

* * *

Jack was a bit melancholy about not having been able to catch up with Annis again before the sun rose. They had tried repeatedly, but every time that he was able to tell them where she had gone, they would arrive moments after she had left. The continual failure was as aggravating as it was disheartening. The one thing for which he had been grateful over the night was the lack of dead bodies. Apparently, knowing she was being chased was enough to keep her from killing. Even if they were not able to find her, they could effectively stop her from siphoning the souls of children. Unfortunately, the ice wielder knew all too well that they would not be able to follow her around for eternity. Nor was it a viable option when considering the rate of increase in the witch's area of influence.

Seemingly exhausted from running about all night, they had returned to the boys' house shortly after breakfast. Conall's good spirits were encouraging, and the cuts on Piers' hands had nearly healed completely. Jack was especially glad that both boys seemed to be recovering well. While listening to the boys recount their conversation with their grandmother from that morning, the winter spirit noted something in Piers' demeanor when he spoke about the spice. He waited until they finished before turning to Conall to ask his question, certain that the elder of the two brothers would not be forthcoming with an answer.

"Where did you get the seed?"

The younger brother stared at the floor for several seconds before shrugging. He refused to look up, even when Jack walked over to him and let a breeze suspend him upside down so that he could peer into the child's face. Though the boy giggled heartily, he still would not raise his head. Allowing the breeze to right him and carry him over to Piers, his feet thudded as the wind deposited him on the floor.

"Piers?"

The elder boy looked guilty and ashamed. Neither was an emotion that the mischief maker enjoyed seeing. As he was generally the source of amusement for children, finding that some were studiously avoiding communicating with him was a bit distressing. He stared unblinkingly at the older brother. Several minutes passed before a mutter from Piers caused him to lean forward and ask him to repeat himself.

"It came from the boogeyman."

Sighing, Jack nodded. He was unsure that they could trust Pitch, but he did know that the boys' grandmother had confirmed the seed as being the correct spice. The white haired guardian was almost certain that another being had a hand in this somewhere, but he had no time to ruminate on such a possiblity.

"Khorosho. So we know what seed looks like. Now we go get." North's accent seemed to Jack's ears to be a bit thicker than usual. Perhaps the jolly spirit was more affected by the constant use of his magical orbs than he had led them to believe.

"But where do we get them?" Toothiana's question was quickly answered by Sandy forming a sand image of a shop front. "Their grandmother tried every market nearby. If there were any to be found in this city, she surely would have already found it." Sandy's store morphed into a question mark.

"Where's the plant come from?" Bunnymund's voice startled the ice wielder a bit. It had been directly behind him. The lagomorph had been silent since the boys had finished their story, so Jack had forgotten he was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, in such close proximity.

Both boys shrugged their shoulders. "Gran said she didn't want to bore us with the details of where the plant came from and –" Piers' explanation was cut off by the loud yelling from the kitchen.

"This is important! I need the car today. I've _got_ to go find some aniseed." The grandmother's declaration was followed by a scoff from the boys' mother.

"No, mum. You need to let this go. You have the kids believing in this imaginary witch." The sound of crockery rattling indicated a fist had landed heavily on a table.

"I have no idea how it is you think she's a fantasy. There is _no_ other possible explanation for the various oddities we've seen these past few weeks."

The younger woman's sigh carried up to them. "Even if I did think she were real, mum, it's not like you can drive all the way to Italy for this plant." The ensuing silence aroused their curiosity. The boys carefully tiptoed to the kitchen doorway. The guardians, unafraid of being spotted, floated into the room. The group found the two women staring at each other in an apparent battle of wills.

Several moments of silence passed before the boys' mother threw her hands into the air. "You are as stubborn as a mule some days, mum." Fishing the car keys from her purse, the metal jangling noisily as the pieces knocked against each other, the younger woman sighed in resignation. She held the keys out, holding on to them firmly when the boys' grandmother reached for them. "You know, sometimes our relationship is a little awkward."

Slipping the keys from her daughter's grasp, the older woman looked puzzled by the statement. "How so?"

"Sometimes, mum, you remind me of me."


	24. Wanting Hate

_Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians. I make no profit from this work of fiction._

**Many thanks** to Shay-Monyou – each favorite and alert is appreciated!

For those who like to use Facebook to follow stories:

w-w-w [d-o-t] facebook [d-o-t] c-o-m /pages/RogueMudblood/684906514892205

Questions can be asked there, but I will remove abusive posts. _(Readers in Germany, Austria, and Switzerland will not be able to view the Facebook page. Due to their legal regulations, those countries were excluded from the viewing audience.)_

_Constructive criticism is most welcome – please don't hesitate to tell me what works and what doesn't._

_A brief note: temperatures referenced are in Celsius, rather than the Fahrenheit to which US readers would likely be accustomed. Eight degrees Celsius is roughly equal to forty-six degrees Fahrenheit._

* * *

She had a single-minded focus, intent on driving to the station in order to catch the train to Dover. It was a two hour ride, but that would only be the beginning of a long trip. After that it would be an hour on the ferry to Calais, and from there more than half a day more to Florence. She had just pulled the front door closed behind her when she heard the phone ring. Sighing, she continued on to the old auto. Whichever friend was ringing to chat would simply have to wait. She heard the door to the house open again, but thought nothing of it. The boys would often come out to play, even in this dreadful weather. Not looking up to confirm her suspicions, she started the car.

She was just putting the car in gear when her daughter appeared at her window. "Mum!" Knuckles rapped on the glass, startling her. Holding a hand to her chest, she put the car back into park and turned off the engine. Feeling her rapid heartbeat underneath her palm, she let the car door swing open wide, staying seated as she scowled at the young woman who had alarmed her so.

"I'm old, dear. You can't try to jump start my heart anymore. It could have the opposite effect."

Shaking her head in amusement, the boys' mother grinned as she helped her mother from the car. "That was George on the phone. He said you were in the store the other day looking for aniseed." The older woman nodded briefly. "He said he doesn't keep it in the shop anymore, but he still cooks with it regularly, so he has quite a bit at his place."

The boys' grandmother perked up at the news. "In Birmingham?" Her daughter nodded. "Then I'm still headed to the station. The train will get me there in about an hour. I can be back in here in about three hours. That will leave me plenty of time."

"Are you sure, mum?"

The older woman nodded decisively, sliding back behind the steering wheel. "Quite." She closed the door, pulling out of the drive at a relatively sedate speed.

* * *

Libby had gone back up to the hill. Out of the numerous hills in the landscape surrounding the small village she called home, there was only one which interested her of late. Since her friend's apparent break with reality, she had frequently found herself returning to the same spot. It was natural, she had been told, to revisit the site of a trauma. Even though the ordeal did not directly involve her, when Libby's mother has expressed concern to one of the physicians at the infirmary, he had calmly explained that even witnesses will feel the need to revisit the source of their pain in an attempt to overcome it.

She supposed that she hoped to see the rabbit her friend was so insistent had been on the hill. Libby continued to hope that either Maisie would admit she had been mistaken or, failing that, she wished she would be able to see the same creature. If she could, it would mean that her oldest friend was not losing her mind. Being in a hospital where other patients were coming into her room talking about the same illusions certainly did not aid her friend in overcoming the hallucination. Sitting on the frost-covered ground, the young girl heaved a great sigh. She was uncertain if there even was anything she could possibly do in order to help her friend.

Having been on top of the hill since after breakfast, she rose, dusting the white powder clinging to her from her clothes. Tired as she was, she often found herself unable to sleep due to her growing concern. Sitting in the cold weather certainly was not helping her. Stuffing her hands into her pockets she walked back to her house, the crunch of the snow-covered ice underneath her boots echoing down the empty path.

Arriving at her home, she had expected to find her mother sedately going about her daily activities as she usually did. Instead, the woman was practically bouncing in exuberance. Confused but finding the scene amusing, Libby stood in the doorway until her mother looked up and noticed her.

"Oh, Libby! Have you seen the news?" The girl shook her head, a bemused smile still lighting her face. "London's reported the temperature is rising!" Her jaw fell slightly slack at the revelation.

"H-how?"

The older woman shrugged. "Does it matter? The snow there is melting quickly, and the ice has thawed! Granted, it's only up to eight degrees, but that's much warmer than the negative temperatures we've been seeing lately!" Her mother acted as though she had received a personal invitation to tea with Her Highness. "And it hasn't just stopped at London! It would seem that England is finally going to thaw from this eternal winter."

The kitchen timer sounded loudly, the high-pitched ding drawing their attention away from their conversation. Tilting her head back, Libby sniffed the air deeply, her eyes closing in joy as she realized that her mother was baking a treat in celebration. The scent of lemon wafted to her, bringing a large grin to her face. "The German biscuits?"

Her mother nodded, pulling a tray with several white rectangles on it. "I thought a treat was in order."

Libby got out a platter and two plates. Smiling at the older woman as she placed the dishes on the counter, the girl turned to get cups for coffee. "It's not even tea time, mum."

The older woman shook her head in amusement. "Very funny."

* * *

Annis was hungry. She had forgotten what it felt like to go without. These few days of food aplenty had spoiled her greatly. Snarling as she felt the vitality slowly draining from her being, she cursed those guardian spirits. They had been everywhere after she had left the hospital. No matter how far she traveled, they inevitably would show. It was beyond aggravating.

Siphoning bits and pieces of souls before their arrival had not been enough. The witch growled her frustration, the sound echoing in the otherwise empty cavern. She could feel the boundaries of her influence retracting towards her bower, and it caused her no small amount of annoyance. They edged ever so slowly inward. As the ice melted she could feel her power dwindling, could feel the power of hope spreading. Though she was loathe to admit it, it was entirely possible that she had managed to overextend herself in trying to spread her influence so quickly through Britain.

The witch knew she would need to be certain to feed when the sun set. She only had a few short hours to wait for darkness to fall, and she found herself ravenously waiting for twilight's arrival. The first mortal she came across, no matter its age, would find that when she felt starved, she was much less discriminating about her meals. Reflecting on her choices of late, she realized that by continually pushing her boundaries outward during the warmer months she had caused herself to be taxed more greatly than if she had begun her conquest during the spring.

Despite knowing that she might herself be responsible in some small part for her situation, the hag did not regret any of the decisions she had made. From waiting until well after Easter had passed to befriending Jack Frost in an attempt – however failed it eventually became – to generate sympathy from him, she stood by each act. Annis was well aware that she may have been able to spread her influence further from her bower and entrench herself more firmly in the communities which were thawing as she awaited dusk. Had she not distracted the winter guardian, however, he may have been more quickly returned to his comrades. Even as she sat in her cave, she could feel him, pacing impatiently as he waited for the chance to come to her.

Growling, she slashed her talons deeply into the rock floor of her cavern. "So _that's_ how they did it!" Her voice echoed in her otherwise empty home. Her anger was only slightly diminished by the realization that she would be able to use the connection in the same manner. The irony, she concluded, was that she had created the situation herself. If she had not held on to his energy so tightly, the spirits would not have been able to follow her. Her hunger would have easily been sated, a problem she intended to rectify the minute the sun fell behind the horizon.

* * *

Jack had been pacing three feet above the floor for several minutes. His path took him in front of Bunnymund in each direction, and the stretch he was walking was short enough that the white haired spirit was traipsing in front of the rabbit every few seconds. Finally tired of the repetitive motion, the lagomorph grabbed his comrade by the arm, turning the ice wielder to him.

"Stand still, will ya?"

Running a hand through his locks, the winter guardian's cheeks colored a bit as he stared into his friend's eyes. "I can't help it. We might actually be close, finally. You heard what they said –"

The pooka scoffed. "_Cairo_ probably heard what they said. They weren't exactly quiet about it."

Clapping a hand on the hare's shoulder, causing him to stumble a bit, North's jolly laugh echoed in the room. "Hard to blame them, da? Is good news, and will be even better news once we are able to stop her for good."

The sound of a car pulling up in the drive let them know that the boys' grandmother had returned. Making their way back to the kitchen, they found Sandy carefully directing streams of dream dust through crevices that would not put them in the paths of any of the house's residents. As busy as they had been with this crisis, the dream weaver had not neglected his duties to the other children of the world. The nightmare that the British children seemed to be suffering through daily was at least offset by the pleasant dreams he could bring them during their sleep.

Toothiana's fairies had been busily collecting teeth during the entire process, helping the Guardians to let children keep believing in them. One of the little pixies happened to be flying directly in front of the door as it opened. Colliding with the wooden paneling, the miniature sprite was sent into an uncontrolled spin, spiraling away from her mistress. Trying to right herself, tiny wings flapped furiously, only succeeding in propelling the diminutive fairy into Jack's chest.

The ice wielder reached his hand out, catching Toothiana's small companion before her impact could cause her to fall to the floor. Smiling down at her, he watched the tiny creature shake her head as though to clear it from the disorientation overwhelming her. She stood in his palm, her wings beginning to flutter rapidly as she rose into the air. Placing a small kiss on the tip of Jack's nose, the little sprite flew back to Toothiana whose giggles could be heard throughout the display. Shaking his head, the winter spirit walked over to stand behind Piers and Conall who were both eagerly asking their grandmother if she had obtained the necessary spice.

"Yes, yes! George had plenty. He even said he'll bring me some seedlings of my own once the weather warms up. I told him not to wait too long, but he didn't believe me when I told him that this winter would finally be coming to an end. Skeptical as ever he is."

Piers snorted. "I take it he didn't hear on the news about London then. It's all over the television and radio – if he's got either, he should know about it."

Smiling, the older woman looked down at her eldest grandson. "He heard the bulletin as I was leaving. Asked me what I could possibly know that he didn't. I told him that amount of information would put Encyclopedia Britannica to shame." Both boys stifled chuckles as Bunnymund laughed outright at their grandmother's statement. She graced them with a wry smile as she began unloading several bags of the spice. Turning away from them, she filled up her kitchen sachet with the seeds. When she moved to face them once more, she found the table filled with small pouches. Her eyebrows rose as she regarded her grandsons.

"We know you won't let us go with you, Gran, but that doesn't mean you can't be well-prepared." Conall's young face was hardened by both frustration and anger. Though he had said he accepted the decision to keep them from her confrontation with Annis, she knew that both boys felt they should be present to protect her. She laid a hand on his shoulder as she thanked him. Handing each boy a pouch to hold, she began filling them with the seeds. Once each was filled, the boys tied them tightly, setting them into the box she had brought in filled with the seeds before picking up another empty pouch to be filled. Because she was occupied with filling the bags, the older woman did not see several of the packets leaving the room.

* * *

She heard her daughter asking after her whereabouts as she quietly shut the door to the backyard behind her. She could not take the car to the hag's cave, so she was carrying the filled sachets in Piers' satchel. With the strap slung over her shoulder, she felt the weight of the seeds and hoped that she would be able to make it to the harridan's cavern before the sun set fully.

Hiking to the witch's bower, she did not notice the spirits striding alongside her. Had she been able to see the tall Russian with a frown firmly set on his features as he strolled, a cossack sabre slung over one shoulder while the other swung freely by his side, she might have turned and gone back thinking that he could handle it fine on his own. If she had seen the white haired spirit floating on a breeze to her right, his frost-covered staff glowing an eerie cyan, she might have wasted her spice on him. Blissfully unaware of the menacing appearance of the six foot tall rabbit walking behind her, she carefully made her way to the cavern, intent on ending the evil no matter the consequence. A breeze gently ruffled her thin hair on occasion, keeping her cool through the journey.

Crossing into the clearing just as the sun disappeared completely behind the horizon, she saw the haggard witch stepping from her cave. Steeling her resolve, she pressed forward, stepping fully into the brightly shining moonlight. Taking the smallest bag from the top of the stack in the satchel, she launched it towards the harridan with all of the strength remaining in her frail body. The angle in which she aimed the seeds was true, but the power she was able to put behind her attack was lacking. The pouch fell short of its mark, alerting Annis to her presence.

The witch looked from the seeds spilled at her feet to the woman flanked by three of the guardian spirits. Her cackle echoed through the trees. "I see the old woman brought the right plant this time."

Confusion was plain on the elderly mortal's face. Stepping closer to the hag, she launched another packet of the seeds. "I admit, my last batch was quite a bit older than this." Shaking her head as she tried to clear her senses, the harridan glared at the mortal stepping ever closer to her bower. "But I assure you, it's the same plant."

The witch made the mistake of catching the third satchet launched in her direction. Falling to her knees, she was ill-equipped to defend herself against the seeds which rained down on her from above. Looking skyward, she snarled loudly, her eyes slightly bloodshot as the essence of the spice began to seep into her skin. Her face twisted into a grotesque grimace, she returned her icy gaze to the mortal still in the moonlight.

She forced herself to her feet, ignoring the fatigue attempting to overcome her body. Wheezing, she called on the wind, coaxing it into carrying her swiftly to the woman. As her feet touched the frozen ground, she reached her arm out, talons closing about the elderly mortal's throat. "You plan to end _me_? Mortal, you'd earn my ire quickly if I thought you had any hope of it."

Smiling, the boys' grandmother opened one of the pouches, grabbing a handful of the seeds. Bringing her hand up to the witch's face before the hag's mouth closed, she jammed the seeds inside, her hand clamping underneath the harridan's chin, forcing her jaws to clamp tightly shut. Annis began choking, trying in vain to expel the spice. "I make you angry enough to loathe me by attacking you? I do think you miss the point." The witch's continual shaking dislodged the older woman's grip. "If your ire is earned by defeating your terrible reign, then I _want_ you to hate me."


	25. Of Someone

_Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians. I make no profit from this work of fiction._

**Many thanks** to Sidders1234 – each favorite and alert is appreciated!

**Special thanks** to snowing-in-the-spring-time – your reviews are greatly appreciated and I'm glad you're still enjoying the story. :)

For those who like to use Facebook to follow stories:

w-w-w [d-o-t] facebook [d-o-t] c-o-m /pages/RogueMudblood/684906514892205

Questions can be asked there, but I will remove abusive posts. _(Readers in Germany, Austria, and Switzerland will not be able to view the Facebook page. Due to their legal regulations, those countries were excluded from the viewing audience.)_

_Constructive criticism is most welcome – please don't hesitate to tell me what works and what doesn't._

* * *

Blood dripped down her throat, the pale skin marred by the lines of burgundy slowly flowing downward. As Annis' grip tightened around her neck, the claws puncturing her skin, she concentrated on staying conscious and keeping the seeds from falling needlessly to the ground. With the seconds ticking by, she thought she was certain to die in the clearing, her eternal soul to be borne away on a moonbeam. Being so thoroughly focused on not allowing her body to shut down as the witch tried to crush her windpipe, the older woman found herself surprised when the hag seemed to inexplicably loosen her grip. Falling to her knees, the mortal watched in amazement as Annis seemed to be combating invisible opponents. Grasping a handful of snow, the grandmother gently pressed the cold precipitation against her neck in an attempt to calm the inflamed tissues. If she survived this encounter, she would certainly need the services of the Royal Infirmary herself.

For the ancient spirit, the battle continued to rage. Her grip on the mortal had been broken when the Russian's sabre had sliced into her shoulder. As she had pulled away abruptly, the blade had careened out of his hand, flying through the air into the trees beyond the clearing. He made no move to retrieve it, instead focusing on using the other sword to guide her away from her intended prey. Stumbling backward, she did not see the shepherd's crook that had been placed in her path. As the frozen wood connected with the backs of her knees, she allowed her momentum to carry her down, saving her neck from being cleaved by the cossack sabre.

Her energy ebbed, not only from being famished, but also as a result of the bombardment kept up by the tiny fairies. The seeds continued pelting her skin, the potent oils within them seeping into her being. As she knew the elderly mortal had intended, she began to feel the fatigue of her actions. Growling in anger, she coaxed the wind to blow harshly on the diminutive sprites. The gusts refused to fully obey her command, her control over the elements weakening as she did. Rolling onto her stomach, she found herself staring at fur-covered toes. She slowly pushed herself up, her movements deliberate in the hopes that they would think she was nearly defeated.

The overly tall rabbit she found herself facing as she stood once more simply pulled his arm back, his hand shooting forward in a rapid motion. The jab to her nose caught her by surprise, her single eye watering as the foreign sensation of physical pain threaded through her. Covering the lower half of her face with both hands, the witch glared at the pooka. As he prepared to strike her again, she surprised him. Lowering her head, she quickly rushed towards him, her skull impacting his abdomen roughly. The force knocked the wind from Bunnymund's lungs, the hare staggering backwards as he clasped a hand to his chest, wheezing.

"Kangaroo!"

Jack's devastated shout caused Sandy to look towards the escalating battle. The dream weaver had been standing watch over the boys' grandmother, his special gift being of the least use in their fight. He had noted that North's blades were able to penetrate her physical form once she had siphoned energy from the ice wielder directly. His surreptitious attempt to put her to sleep, sprinkling his sand on her as Tooth's workers had pelted her with the seeds, had proved that his dream dust had no effect. Because of this, Sandy had determined the best use of his time was to protect the lone mortal in the clearing. Annis had fed exclusively from children as long as the Guardians had been present in England, but the glittering spirit recognized that they had no information on her preferences before heir arrival. It was conceivable that she would be able to drain the soul of any mortal, not only the young. He did not want to risk the older woman's life. His diverted attention alerted him to the fact that the witch was headed back towards him, intent on reaching the woman behind him.

Having noted the development herself, the older woman pushed herself up from the cold ground, her clothes soaked through with the moisture from the melted snow. Though she was unclear as to why the hag had been occupied closer to the cave, she recognized the danger inherent in remaining prone. Turning towards the trees, the boys' grandmother vowed that the half-blind crone would have to work in order to consume her soul. Grabbing the strap of Piers' satchel, the older woman headed for the shadowed woods, ignoring the sense of danger she perceived might be present within. As uncertain as she might be about what lay before her, she was quite aware of the malevolent being in the clearing from which she ran, and had no qualms in admitting that she was more afraid of Annis than she was of a potential unknown threat.

Seeing Tooth grasping handfuls of the spice seeds and flying backward alongside the elderly mortal, Jack gave his full attention to his injured comrade. Wrapping his arms about the rabbit's middle, the white haired guardian lifted the lagomorph from the snow.

"Stop yer fussin'! I'm fi– ow. Okay, maybe not." The ice wielder raised an eyebrow at the pooka, bemused even as concern overwhelmed him. He glanced toward North, the Russian nodding in understanding before rushing after the hag. The sounds of her growls echoed back to the pair, the hare resting his weight on the youngest guardian's shoulders. "I'll be fine in a minute."

Jack shrugged. "Then we'll make sure you get that minute." He gave the rabbit a mischievous grin in response to the halfhearted glare he was receiving for his efforts. When his blue-furred companion was able to stand straighter, no longer relying on his shorter frame to support the superior height, the winter spirit smiled broadly. "Shall we join the fray?" The hare smirked as they rushed towards North, still holding Annis in the clearing with his attacks.

Turning to avoid another swipe of the cossack blade, the witch noticed that the other two guardians were quickly advancing. Snarling, she ducked under the Russian's next swing. Her fatigued body protested as she drew on her affinity with the elements to have the snow entrench him, effectively trapping him to that spot in the clearing. Her hiss was carried to him on the breeze as she rushed past. "I'll deal with you later."

As she ran for the treeline, a wooden boomerang sped past her, its return arc connecting soundly with her left shin. Tumbling onto the snow-covered field, she snarled, her hands shooting forward to keep her face from impacting the ground. She dared not let her head touch the earth, afraid that the lethargy pervading her body would cause her to succumb to the exhaustion striving to overwhelm her. Rising slowly, she felt the rumble beneath her as energy within the earth itself changed.

Standing beside the Christmas spirit, Jack studied the snow. The dusty white precipitation had been his toy of choice for a long while, so he was well aware of its composition. Encasing North's lower body was a very dense concentration of snow, leaving the ice wielder with only one viable option for freeing his fellow Guardian. Allowing his energy to flow into the shepherd's crook that was his constant companion, the white haired spirit forcefully thrust the base of the staff through the snow drift so that it impacted firmly with the ground below. He focused not on creating the winter elements – his regular purview – but instead on withdrawing them into himself. The Russian grinned broadly as he was freed from the prison in which the witch had sought to leave him.

Picking the other two up on a gust of wind, Jack bore them towards the woods. As they approached Annis, they found Sandy occupying the witch. While his sand would not be able to force her into slumber, his dust was a formidable weapon, limited only by his own imagination. A glittering rope stretched across the forest path behind of the witch. The dream weaver formed numerous simulacrums of the seeds which so vexed the hag, propelling them towards her rapidly. As she stepped back to avoid them, she tripped over the rope, falling roughly to the ground. Landing, she noticed that the ground beneath her was dry. Though it was hard, it showed no other signs of being bound by the winter elements.

Her neck popped audibly as her head spun about to locate the winter guardian. His cerulean eyes glowed eerily, appearing as lanterns in the shadows of the woods. The gust bearing him aloft was wholly separate from the winds swirling the snow and ice about him as it was lifted from the ground. Annis tried calling the elements to her, growling when they resisted her command. Rising from the unforgiving earth, she was met with the dream weaver's frowning countenance. Swiping her talons into Sandy's round body, the witch took advantage of his flinch to push past him. Her path to the mortal only impeded by the fairies, the hag was certain that she would be feeding shortly.

* * *

Toothiana and her fairies were quite fatigued after having flown in circles around the harridan, trying to keep the witch at bay. They had run out of the spice with which they had been attacking the hag as the boys' grandmother had fled with the majority of it. Annis had taken advantage of their disarmed state to bypass them, maiming several of the tiny sprites with her claws. The elderly mortal had been able to keep a steady pace, her distance from the harridan fairly constant.

When she had fled into the woods, she had not know exactly in which direction she should head. The only intent she had was to keep the witch chasing her and not to allow her to veer off in pursuit of younger and more naïve prey. The seeds that she had managed to force Annis to swallow had already shown some success. With the elements no longer responding to the hag's call and her growing lethargy, it was clear that the witch was losing her power.

As the older mortal rushed through the trees and into another clearing, she gasped in shock, one hand covering her mouth. The sight before her surprised her so that she had stopped her headlong flight. Standing a short distance away was a young girl, laughing as snow swirled above the ground, the white powder flowing around her ankles as it streamed back into the woods. The ground was left bare, and the temperature in the air was clearly warmer than it had been scant moments prior. Her contemplation of the scene before her ended abruptly as the harridan burst through the woods separating them. Spying the child, her malicious cackle echoed in the field. Looking up to see the malevolent spirit headed towards her, the young girl screamed.

Knowing she had little hope of being able to stop the evil witch in time, the elderly mortal ran towards the girl. Grasping a handful of the spice, she tossed it towards the hag as she tried to intercept her. Annis snarled as the seeds hit her, their effect minimalized since the contact was external. The child whispered a barely audible thanks, which the older woman assumed was meant for her as the witch's flight stopped when she fell to her knees, her arms wrapped about her mid section.

Though the boys' grandmother was unable to see it, the girl could clearly view the golden rope that had lassoed the hag. A smile lit her face as she watched the five benevolent spirits emerge from the trees. Frost surrounding him as the ice and snow whirled about Jack's form, he truly appeared to be the ice king that the children had named him. A frigid blue hue covered his staff, the cyan color reflecting off of the bits of ice that flew to him. If Bunnymund had not known that his friend possessed a very congenial attitude about most things, he would have certainly assumed the formidable-looking spirit walking alongside him intended to aid Annis rather than defeat her.

As she broke free from the dream weaver's sand-formed rope, she found herself looking down the tempered edge of a cossack sabre. North's jolly demeanor had abandoned him as he glared down at the malevolent spirit. The fairies picked the seeds up from the ground, the hollow sound of the hull smacking against their tiny palms echoing in the air. Annis swiveled about, her knees making a furrow in the dirt as she surveyed each of the Guardians. She rose to her feet, arms reaching for the lagomorph as she intended to make one last attempt to fend them off. Bunnymund quickly unsheathed his boomerang, prepared to attack the witch.

As her claws extended towards him once more, the energy sapped from her completely, her arm falling limply to her side. "You think you've won. You think this is the end of it." Her words came out on wheezes of breath as she fought the effects of the spice. "This is only temporary."

The boys' grandmother approached her, the shadow she cast over the witch's prone form drawing Annis' attention. "You've lost track of time, witch." Pointing to the horizon, the older mortal reveled in the narrowed eyes and frightening grimace that twisted the hag's features. "You spent more time than you expected chasing after an old woman." She leaned down as the sun crested over the horizon, her voice sounding like no more than a hiss. "You'll still slumber, you old hag. But all the winters in the world won't be able to wake you."

As the sun's rays shone brightly into the clearing, the ancient spirit slowly crusted over, her blue toned skin taking on a granite pallor. Unable to stand, she made one last defiant attempt to injure the boys' grandmother with her talons. As her hand reached the upward height of its arc, her face contorted with hatred, sunlight petrified her completely.

The girl approached the stone statue cautiously, her hand tracing the contours of the frozen witch's face. Looking up at the Guardians and the elderly woman, she whispered a thanks, a large smile brightening her features as her eyes landed on Jack. After several moments, recognition dawned on him, and he called her name. "If they give you any trouble now, Bronwen, just bring them here. And don't forget."

Her smile shone even more brightly, knowing that the winter guardian had not forgotten her. "Never, Jack Frost. I'll always remember." She rushed off to the town nearby, eager to spread the tale of Annis' defeat.

"Was a bit anticlimactic, yeah? I mean, sure, she's down for the count right now, but how long does this gargoyle act last?" Bunnymund sheathed his boomerang as he spoke, left hand reaching up to scratch his ear gently.

The ice wielder shrugged, unable to answer his friend's question. North opened his mouth to reply, but his words were swallowed as the elderly woman walked towards his white haired friend. "Jack Frost."

Eyebrows rising, he leaned on his staff, his gaze meeting her own steadfast stare. "You can see me?" She nodded. "Huh."

Shrugging, she smirked at him. "What's so surprising?" She looped her arm through his, slowly walking back in the direction they had come. "I knew the secret to defeating an age-old spirit. Not something I would have bothered knowing at all if I hadn't believed in her – at least a little." She looked up at him, studying his face intently. "No reason I can't believe in another spirit. No surprise to me that you're real. Something was obviously drawing off the snow, and it was either you or the North Wind." Jack chuckled softly. "How often do you come around these parts, child? Your face... You remind me of someone..."


	26. Epilogue

_Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians. I make no profit from this work of fiction._

**Many thanks** to huntiklover – each favorite and alert is appreciated!

For those who like to use Facebook to follow stories:

w-w-w [d-o-t] facebook [d-o-t] c-o-m /pages/RogueMudblood/684906514892205

Questions can be asked there, but I will remove abusive posts. _(Readers in Germany, Austria, and Switzerland will not be able to view the Facebook page. Due to their legal regulations, those countries were excluded from the viewing audience.)_

_Constructive criticism is most welcome – please don't hesitate to tell me what works and what doesn't._

_**Author's note:** I thank you all for taking the time to read this piece, and I do hope you've enjoyed the tale as much as I've enjoyed the telling of it!_

_Any reviews received from this point will be answered on the Facebook post corresponding to the chapter posting (as a comment), so feel free to check there for replies._

_For any who might be curious, the challenge prompts (there were only 26) can be viewed on the Facebook page._

* * *

The doctors had not been able to find anything wrong with Maisie – as there _was_ nothing wrong. Since she was lucid, her mother was advised to re-admit her if she became a clear danger when having another 'episode'. She had rolled her eyes at that remark. The discharge papers had been written up, and she had happily gotten into her mother's car to go home. Driving out of town, they had passed by a most amazing sight.

A woman old enough to vividly recall Operation Masterdom was dancing underneath a twirl of snow. Though Maisie's mother smiled as she watched the woman, she was unable to see the tall rabbit who was somewhat flustered by the elderly woman's attempts to draw him into a dance with her. The young girl giggled at the antics.

"It's good to hear you laugh again." Looking up at the rear view mirror, Maisie found her mother's eyes staring back at her, alight with hope. For the first time, she realized how worried those around her had been. The introspective thoughts stopped abruptly as she caught sight of Piers. The boy she had been so happy to see in the hospital was cavorting merrily with Santa Claus. She dared not tell her mother that when she asked her to stop. Maisie ran over to the group, calling out to the older boy.

Hearing his name, Piers looked up, surprised to find the girl from the hospital rushing towards him. He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly when she reached him. "Finally let you out, huh? Realized you weren't cracked?"

Maisie chuckled. "They just decided I wasn't the dangerous type." Looking past Piers to Bunnymund, she grinned. "After all, I'm only seeing six foot tall blue-furred rabbits. Not hearing voices." Toothiana giggled as the hare in question blushed.

"Well, now, that's just a shame." Maisie gasped, both from the proximity of the voice and from the chill generated by the sudden snow shower directly above her. Twirling about, she saw a white haired man floating three feet above the earth, a staff in his hand swirling the air, apparently the source of the flakes raining down on her. His mirth and playful demeanor offset her initial fear. Seeing someone controlling the snow had given rise to the apprehension cultivated by Annis.

Conall came running out of the house, the glittering golden Sandman directly behind him. Transported on a cloud of dream dust was a tray full of tea things. "Is she really dead, Gran? Did you really kill her?"

The older woman chuckled. "Dead probably isn't the right term. She's … asleep. And hopefully, she will be for a very long time."

* * *

He had slinked alongside them in the shadows through the entire night. They had been so focused on the witch they had not even noticed his presence. He had neither aided nor hindered any of them, though he had been given ample opportunity to do both. Slithering much like a snake, he had concealed himself within the darkness that had always been his purview. When Jack had returned to clear the snow and ice for several hundred meters around her petrified form, making certain that the harridan would not be able to draw on the elements themselves in an attempt to reinstate her power, Pitch had felt a sinister grin spreading across his face.

The days after the hag's defeat had been filled with activity. The field had hardly been empty – even at night. With the threat of the soul-sucking witch no longer hanging over them, the children were all too happy to play after dark. Sunlight hours were increasing exponentially as the seasons tried to right themselves once more. As Annis was no longer imposing winter upon Britain, the nation slowly drifted back into its normal routines. Though they did not forget the eight month winter, those who had not believed in the witch, or whose belief was a truly fickle thing, easily let the incidents regarding deceased children slip from their memories. They did not wish to recall the horrors of those months.

Pitch had watched from the shadows as the number of visitors to the statue quickly dwindled. Bronwen had eagerly brought all of the children of her village to see the petrified witch. Word had quickly spread among the youths. In the first few days, as he had watched, the field had been filled with visitors. Many of the older generation brought various forms of aniseed. They had not believed the old ways of dealing with the evil spirit would be sufficient. The added factor of being considered cruel to animals had kept them from action – after all, the ritual called for a dead cat soaked in aniseed oil to be dragged through the town before passing by Annis' bower. They were grateful to learn that the feline had not been necessary in order to bring the witch to the only justice they could.

With the lengthening days, the possibility that the hag would be able to free herself from her stone prison lessened. The seedlings that had been planted in a five foot radius of her petrified form were the humans' insurance. The long ferns and brilliantly white flowers of anise were interspersed with shorter thin green stalks, tiny leaves split in three sections and spread much like fanned out maple leaves. The scent was pleasant enough as it tickled his nose.

As the visitors dwindled over time, they no longer came at night. When he was certain there would be no one to interrupt him, he approached her frozen form. His feet slipped silently over the ground as he walked to her granite tomb. He placed a hand against her cheek, an act he would never have dared if she had not been petrified. Pulling the shadows about him, he revealed his scythe, tightly held in his other hand. The base of the staff made little noise as he placed it gently against the soft earth.

"They did finally best you, Annis. So sure of yourself." He clucked his tongue, mocking her. "It would be such a shame to let all of that wonderfully malevolent energy you possessed simply rot in this tomb until you happened to muster enough strength to break free of both the rock encasing you and the ring of aniseed they've planted about you." Lifting the scythe, he traced the blade down the cheek below her empty eye socket, the hole in her face not appearing nearly as vicious without her dark essence behind it. "So I've decided that such delicious evil shouldn't be trapped."

His movements were deliberate, and he fancied if she had been able to move her eye at all, it would have shown relief briefly before realization dawned on the witch. As he swung his scythe downward, the arc bringing the blade to penetrate her shoulder cleanly, he imagined that her eye would have widened with terror, then narrowed in understanding. He could not allow her to regain her freedom. She had shown she was far too willing to eradicate the very children he relied on for his own power.

As the scythe connected, he felt her energy sluggishly coursing through the instrument. He had not expected that this would be a speedy process. After all, she had been around for millennia and had amassed a great deal of power in that time. Siphoning her essence into him was an intoxicating experience, one he savored as the decimation of spirits was not something he was likely to repeat in the near future. The thought had occurred to him, though – if he could not strike fear into the hearts of every human through their dreams, perhaps there _was_ another way.

"After all," he mused aloud as he drew the last reluctant drop from the stone husk, "what would children fear more than someone who was able to kill the avatars of their hopes and dreams?" Withdrawing the blade from her shoulder, he looked up to the dimly lit moon hanging overhead. "And then, my old friend, _I_ will rule over it all. I can be like _you_."

Evil laughter echoed through the clearing as he slipped into the shadows once more.


End file.
